


The Hollow Men

by MarvelsAssbutts



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Criminal stuff, Destiel - Freeform, Don't read if you don't like robberies and murder!, Lot of characters doing a lot of bad things, M/M, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 22:05:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8865121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelsAssbutts/pseuds/MarvelsAssbutts
Summary: Dean Winchester is a highly wanted criminal who has singlehandedly robbed banks and murdered hundreds of civilians. He has the nation of the United States in a constant state of fear and thrives off of their worries. He doesn't have a care in the world.Until, a challenge presents itself in the form of a man with a trench coat and a look that could kill.Will Dean be able to overpower his enemy, or will he fall defenseless at his feet?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> (Unbetaed! Sorry!)

Dean stepped over the nameless, faceless, and bloodied corpse of yet another body. He was unaffected by its grotesque lacerations and its exposed guts. He found that seeing something like that never quite disturbed him. In fact, the only thing he was worried about was how badly the pool of blood was staining his boots.

“Pl-Pl-Please….”

Oh, and that.

Dean rolled his eyes at the sound of the whimpering woman and snatched his duffle bag off the floor before opening it up and shoving the copious amounts of money inside. He was almost giggling with glee knowing he was another hundred thousand or so richer. Maybe he could just  _buy_  a new pair of boots instead of cleaning these!

“Do-Don’t-”

“Hey, lady, you mind shutting the fuck up and letting me do what I need to do?”

“You ki-killed them. A-All of th-” She broke off as she started sobbing and Dean focused back on packing the bag. Once he was satisfied with what he collected, he threw the bag to the side and bent down near another one before unzipping it and pulling out a grenade.

Smiling, he got back up and sauntered over to the blonde woman before bending down in front of her and humming softly. 

“You’re wrong, you know,” he sighed. “I didn’t kill  _all_ of them. You’re still sitting pretty here, aren’t you?”

She didn’t respond, too afraid to even look him in the eye.

“Anyway,” he sighed and held up the grenade causing the woman to let out a horrible cry, “I’m gonna tell you a story, is that okay? Good,” he grinned, not waiting for a response. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and wiggled a roll of duct tape in front of her face. “I’m a big fan of the Batman series. Read the comics as a kid, watched the show,  _worshipped_ the movies.” He laughed softly and grabbed one of her hands before pressing the grenade into it. “Hold onto that for me, sweetheart, nice and tight, okay?” She whimpered as she did so and Dean frowned before gently shushing her. “Now, as much as I love everything to do with Batman there was one scene that really stood out to me. Can you guess which?” Again, she didn’t respond and Dean laughed. “Fine! I’ll say it, though I thought it was fairly obvious. Well, my favorite scene happens at the very beginning of The Dark Knight. You know, the one with the Joker? Heath Ledger? God rest his soul,” he sighed. 

“How can you even  _speak_ God’s name-”

“Honey, don’t interrupt me when I’m talking,” he said, quickly producing a small handgun and holding it to her head. “I can speak his name just as easily as I can the names of all the  _god_ damn lives I’ve taken so shut up and listen.” He took a deep breath as the woman started crying once again. “Right! Heath…. That scene is, spoiler alert, a bank heist scene and one of the most  _brilliant_ scenes to ever take place in cinematic history, really captivates the audience. I mean, if there’s one way to open a movie, dammit that’s it. Pretty badass stuff,” he smiled and placed the woman’s other hand around the grenade before he started to wrap them in duct tape. “The Joker did something in the movie that really got my attention. He shoved an explosive in this guy’s mouth, tied a string to it, attached it to himself, and when he drove out the bank the string pulled off the detonator.” Dean sighed and then smiled. “Had to make sure to get himself out of the hotspot right?” He chuckled and pulled out a small black remote. “I never had the patience to sit there and tie strings. So, when you hear three beeps, just close your eyes, yeah?” he said with a wink and the woman closed her eyes, her emotions finally spilling over the edge as she sobbed harshly, her head bowed. “Well,” Dean said in almost a bored tone, “nice chatting with ya.” He stood up, making sure to tuck his gun back into its holster and shove the duct tape back into his pocket. 

He turned from the woman and walked back into the main lobby of the bank before raising his gun again and shooting out every security camera. Every camera but one. 

The last one he looking into and smiled at. He lifted his arms out to his sides arrogantly and laughed.

“You guys must  _want_ me to keep doing this. Because honestly, it’s just getting too easy. Can’t wait to see my latest news cover. I really know how to work the camera, huh? Anyway,” he chuckled, “maybe I’ll see you sons of bitches around!” He bowed and saluted before grabbing his bags and loading them into his car around back.

As he was driving away he looked down at the black remote and clicked the detonate button. He laughed heartily at the look he imagined passing over the woman’s face when she realized it was only gas.

 

••

 

The first time Dean Winchester stole something he was seven and it was from Toys ‘R’ Us. His little brother, Sammy, had been completely devastated when their dad didn't buy him the newest Power Ranger action figure and had thrown one of the biggest fits Dean had ever seen. 

_“Aw, Dad,” Dean had said. “Can't ya just get it for him?”_

_“Dean, we’re shopping for your cousin’s gift. Sam has to learn that not every time we go to the toy store it’s for him. Now, let’s go! We’re going to be late to this party and your mother is going to kill me.”_

Dean had said a quick okay as his dad left the aisle and looked at the action figure one more time before shrugging, opening the case, and pulling the small man out. He shoved it into his pocket in the next second and easily caught up with his dad to pay for his cousin’s gift and leave the store.

The look of complete jubilance that passed over Sammy’s face when he received his gift was enough for Dean’s brain to register stealing as ‘worth it!’ and he continued with the hobby for years to come. Toys turned into clothes, clothes into jewelry, jewelry into money. 

And, eventually, money into lives. 

Dean Winchester took his first life at the age of nineteen and the adrenaline that shot through him when he slit the man’s throat made him grin and laugh maniacally before collecting the money from the small register. After that, he bought a gun. And once he had a gun, he wanted grenades. And so on and so forth. It didn’t take long for Dean to have an entire artillery, a horribly recognizable M.O., and a vast price tag on his head.

Dean didn’t care what happened to his victims. He didn’t care about what the world thought of him. He was rich, famous and guiltless. What more could he possibly want?

 

••

 

“How ya doing, kid?” Dean asked, head bent low and baseball cap on as he walked up to the register.

“He-Hey, Mr. Winchester.”

“Dude,” Dean sighed and looked up. “One, don’t fucking call me mister anything. Two, why the fuck are you using my name?”

“Sorry! I just-”

“Call me Freddie in here, okay? Have we never gone over this?”

“Uh, no sir.”

Dean sighed again and leaned against the counter. “Well, we have now,” he mumbled and looked up at the menu. 

Alfie, the kid standing behind the register in the - almost always empty - Big Garrison’s had been serving Dean since he moved into the shitty apartment complex across the street. So, for about two years. Dean had stumbled in one day after a close call with the cops and demanded a number 5 meal, slamming down a $100 bill.

_“You-You’re-You’re….” Alfie stuttered and Dean rolled his eyes._

_“Yes, I know. And it’s all very intimidating. But buddy, all I really fucking want right now is a damn number five. Your menu says it’s six-fifty? I’m offering you a hundred fucking dollars, all of it. Give me what I want and I promise you won’t regret it…. How much do you get paid a week?”_

_“Ei-Eight forty-forty nine hourly.”_

_Dean closed his eyes, trying to compose himself. “Not what I fucking asked, but okay. Listen to me, I will pay you a hundred dollars every time I come in here and order from you, no matter the cost. You do a good job at keeping your mouth shut, the price will go up. You do a_ bad job  _at keeping your mouth shut and I’ll_ blow you up.  _Got it?”_

_“N-Number five coming right up.”_

“Okay,” Dean said with a sigh. “Just a number one and a fruit punch.”

“Fruit punch?” Alfie asked with a small smile and Dean fixed him with a hard glare. “I-I mean- Okay, yeah! Good choice.”

“Thanks, Alfie. You’re the best,” he sighed and handed him $500. 

“Th-Thanks.”

Dean smiled and waited for his order. He liked Alfie. He was a good kid, too nervous for his own good, but a good kid. Dean didn’t think he’d be able to  _blow him up_ like he had threatened years before. But there was no way in hell he was going to tell  _him_  that. He needed his burgers just as much as the next guy. 

Dean collected his order when it was ready and hastily made his way out of the restaurant and towards his apartment. He lived on the top floor and was thankful for it being mostly abandoned. However, he did enjoy the occasional fucks the woman across the hall brought home. It was a tune he’d never get tired of listening to. His apartment had the essentials. A bed, bathroom, small kitchen, a table and chair, and a tv. Dean prided himself on being modest, even with all the money he had. 

He fell into the chair and flipped on the tv before settling on the news station. 

It took some time, but halfway through his burger the “Breaking News” banner blared across the screen before depicting an image of the bank he was robbing only hours ago.

“There it is!” he exclaimed around a mouthful of food and laughed as a reporter quickly informed the public on what had transpired and how many were now dead. “Damn, I look good,” he grinned as they played the security camera footage and he watched as he shot, stabbed, and wrung the necks of the people around him. “I look damn good,” he murmured, leaning forward and watching with more intensity. His smile slowly faded as he watched the video replay itself over and over again. “Look at all that blood,” he whispered to himself. “Fuck.”

_“Rewards have been set for Dean Winchester’s capture. The FBI has sent out a Dead or Alive-”_

“YES!” Dean screamed and shot out of his seat. “FUCK yes! Wanted Dead or Alive! I did it Jovi! I made it to the big leagues!” 

He finished his meal and turned off the tv soon after before showering and collapsing into his bed. While laying there, he decided that a month off would be smart, especially after the stakes being raised so high. He made a mental note to get Alfie to go grocery shopping for him before finally turning over and falling asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean looked down at his artillery, hands on his hips, and sighed. It was finally time to come out of hiding after a month of staying in, or at least near, his apartment. He was planning on driving to Oregon that night and making his infiltration in the following twenty four hours. At the moment, he was debating on whether or not to bring a real grenade or a fake one. He hated the thought of having patterns with the damn things but found it almost impossible to be random with them. It wasn’t like he could throw them in the air and see which one landed first or invite someone in to pick for him.

“Fuck it,” he said and snatched one up before putting it in his bag. Not a moment after selecting his grenade there was a knock at the door and Dean immediately snatched up his handgun and walked over with a sigh. However, after looking through the peephole, he realized the gun wasn’t needed and tucked it into his belt. “Yes?” he called through his door.

“Hi,” the woman replied. “I was just wondering if you had any eggs I could borrow?”

Dean looked over at his fridge and quickly lifted his eyebrows. “Yeah, I got some. How many do you need?”

“Three would be great,” she answered and Dean nodded before walking into his kitchen and pulling the eggs out of the fridge. When he got back to the door he ducked his head and opened it just enough to pass the eggs through. “Thanks,” she smiled.

“Uh h-”

“You know, I’ve never seen your face.”

“I know,” Dean said with a small grin and shifted. “I’m doing that on purpose, believe me.”   
“What? Low self esteem or something? Because if it is, I’ll let you know that your body, which I  _have_ seen, thank God, is definitely the type I’d love to get my hands on.”

Dean closed his eyes and held back a groan as he let his head fall back against the wall. Damn, how long had it been? He had forgotten what it was like to be that close, that  _intimate,_ with someone what with being a fugitive (recently promoted to a dead or alive status) and all he didn’t really have time (or volunteers) to get himself laid. 

He thought about how bad it would be to let her in. Maybe she wouldn't care about him being a murderer. Maybe she was into that sort of thing. She certainly didn't  _seem_  to have many morals after hearing the things that came out of her room late at night. He knew what kind of fantasies she liked and hey, sex with a criminal was always interesting. He looked over at the bed, covered in guns and knives and sighed.

“Listen,” he started, “darling, as much as I would love for you to come in here and run your hands and more all over my body, now isn't really a good time.”

“That's too bad,” she sighed. “Looks like asking for these eggs was a waste then.”

“You can keep them.”

“I was going to anyway, honey. Maybe I'll see you around.”

“Maybe,” Dean agreed with a small smile and shut the door completely once she left. “Fuck,” he groaned and waited a moment before pushing himself off the wall and continuing his packing. 

 

••

 

For long drives like this, Dean didn't take the Impala. She was too noticeable. Too much of a risk. And Dean would rather die than see her taken into police custody. She was his baby after all and her safety came before his. It didn't damage his already destroyed morals to steal a car or two along the way. Furthermore, the thought of whether or not it was acceptable to jack off in said car was the last thing on his mind. If there was one thing Dean loved about his “job” it was how little he cared about anyone or thing that didn't directly affect him.

So he stole the cars just like he'd steal anything else and he'd think about the woman in his apartment until his upstairs brain was replaced by his downstairs brain and he found his sweet release in the driver’s seat. 

He got to Oregon a few hours later and found himself parked outside a small bank, takeout food in his lap and music blasting from the speakers. It was already late enough that the sun was down and Dean popped one more fry into his mouth before pulling his handgun out of the glove compartment and shoving it in his belt after double checking to make sure it was loaded. He opened his duffle bag then and pulled out his M15 before throwing his car door open and sauntering up to the bank doors. He pulled them open with a grin and slammed them closed before turning the lock.

He took down the bank tellers first. Three different shots, two for a pair of heads and one for an arm. The security guard came next with an easy blow to the head with the bunt of his gun. A man charged him trying to get to the door, but only managed to get his throat slit. After that Dean’s rounds lit up the room, taking down every unfortunate customer and silencing their deafening screams.

“So here’s how this is going to play out!” he yelled and stood up on one of the chairs. “ _You,”_ he said and pointed to the teller who was holding their arm, face screwed up in pain, “are going to give me my money.  _You,”_ he said and gestured to the group on the floor, “are going to be as quiet as the dead. Two  _easy_ instructions, don’t you think? I do,” he sighed and got off the chair before going to the teller and throwing his bag on the counter. “The faster you go the faster this is over and the faster I can go home, got it?”

“Ye-Yes.”

“Sorry I got your arm by the way,” he sighed as the teller started to do as they were told. “I saw you reaching for that silent siren and I just couldn’t have that,” he chuckled. “Know what I mean?”

“I-I do.”

“You and me are getting along!” he grinned and turned away. “Keep working I need to look for something,” he mumbled and started walking around the bank, his eyes scanning over the bodies. Some were dead some were alive but that didn’t really matter to him. They’d all be dead once he was finished with them. His walking stopped once his eyes landed on a girl lying on the floor, her hands pressing into her leg, trying to stop the blood from pouring out. Bingo. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said before bending over and pulling her up into a sitting position, “why didn’t you say something? I can take care of that for you.”

“Get  _off_ me!” she snapped and shoved him roughly. “Don’t you touch me.”

“Whoa! Whoa, take it easy there. I’m not gonna hurt you. Honestly,” he said and lowered himself to be at eye level with her. “Let me help you,” he said, already pulling out an old handkerchief and pushing her hands away from her leg. “I’m just going to tie this around your leg, alright?”

The girl glared at him but didn’t stop him from helping. “What’s your name, honey?”

She said nothing as Dean tied the final knot and he started laughing. “Baby, what’s your name? I’m not gonna ask nicely again.”

She continued glaring at Dean rolled his eyes before wrapping his hand around her throat and slamming her back against the tiled floor, his body looming over.

“Jo!” another voice called out. “Her name is Jo, please! Please, stop!”

Dean looked to his left and saw a brunette woman, mid forties, staring at him with tears in her eyes as she sat up against the bank tellers’ counter. Her hand was pressed against her stomach as blood poured out around it. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m her mother. Ellen.”

“Huh,” Dean mused and looked down at Jo lying beneath him, eyes still glaring daggers. “You’re tough,” he smiled. “Jo…. What’s that short for?”

“Joanna,” she seethed and Dean grinned. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said and moved the hand from her throat up to her face. “But, you’re a beautiful girl so I can see how that goes hand in hand.” His thumb ghosted over her lips and he hummed softly, his thoughts going back to the woman at his apartment and to the heated car ride over. “How’s that bag coming?” he called and the bank teller quickly told him it was full. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said and stood up, pulling Jo with him and pressing her against his body as he walked up to the counter. “She’s pretty, ain’t she?” he asked and the teller nodded. “I just want to take her back home with me! It’s been a while after all….”

“That’s t-too bad.”

“It is too bad,” Dean said and slung the bag over his shoulder before turning Jo around to face him. “Don’t you agree that it’s too bad?”

“I think it’s what you deserve. Who the hell would want to-”

“Enough,” he groaned and shoved her down onto her knees. “Damn, you talk too much,” he sighed and grabbed a fistful of her hair before he dragged her over to Ellen and threw her against the counter. “Stay right there,” he smiled before walking back around the room and putting a bullet in each and every head of the bodies. He winked at the bank teller before putting one in hers as well. 

Eventually, he made his way back over to Ellen and Jo and smiled. “I’m gonna tell you a stor-”

“We don’t give a shit,” Jo snapped. “We don’t care about your history or why you get off to Batman or why you’re doing this. Just kill us and get the fuck out of here,” she growled, causing Ellen to slowly shake her head. 

“Jo...don’t-”

Dean raised his gun and pointed it at Ellen’s head. “No, no, let her keep going. Keep moving that pretty, little mouth of yours, Jo. I’m  _loving_ it.”

Jo hadn’t taken her eyes off the gun and her eyes were now quickly filling with tears. “No. No, please don’t-”

“See, now I’m confused! Didn’t you just tell me to kill you both? Didn’t you just say that?”

“Not her!” Jo screamed and turned back to Dean. “Why can’t you just leave?”

“Not really my M.O. as I’m sure you know.” He sighed and looked Jo up and down. “Tell you what, you give me a kiss and I won’t shoot your mom in the head, huh?”

“Excuse me?” Jo spluttered. 

“Come on,” Dean whined. “I said it’s been a while and all I’m asking for is a kiss. Just one.”

“Let him shoot me, Jo,” Ellen said. “Don’t you give him what he wants, just let him shoot me-”

Dean cocked the gun and both women seemed to stop breathing.

“Yes or no, darling, I’m not waiting forever. I have the cops-”

“Yes! Yes, okay!” she cried. “Okay, fi-fine! Fine, asshole!”

Dean decided to ignore the name - the girl was under enough stress - and positioned himself closer to her, his gun still aimed at Ellen. He smiled as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Jo’s letting out a small moan and raising his free hand to her cheek as he did so. He pressed in further, closing the space between them as his mouth forced hers open and his tongue slid inside. It was short lived however as Jo shoved him off of her. 

“Problem?” Dean snarled as Jo wiped her mouth. 

“You didn’t say-”

“I said what I wanted and that means you give it to me any way I want it.”

He opened his duffle bag then and placed two grenades on the ground before standing up and slinging the cash filled bag onto his shoulder. He found the nearest security camera and took a small bow. 

“Thanks for the cash…. And the perk,” he said with a smile at Jo before shooting out the camera. “You’re not too bad a kisser, Joanna,” he said. “Had you not pulled that stunt, I definitely would’ve taken you back with me. But, life goes on,” he sighed and turned away with a smirk. “For me at least.”


	3. Chapter 3

The news latched onto that case fairly quick. After the bank had blown up and was littered with firefighters, police, and FBI it didn’t take long for just about every local and national station to show up and give their spiel on the event. Of course, by then, Dean was long gone headed back home. He crashed at a motel one state over, eager to catch his face on the television but halfway through the report, he was met with a banner labeled in bright, red colors “BREAKING NEWS.”

“Breaking news?” he growled. “I  _ am  _ the breaking news! I swear to Christ if this is some flash flood shit I’m going to murder every fucking-”

_ “Good evening, I’m Martha Jones coming to you with a report of a serial killer that has recently wrapped our nation in fear.” _

“Ex _ cuse  _ me?!” Dean shouted and stood up to up the volume. Immediately after he crossed his arms over his chest, huffing angrily at the tv screen.

_ “A serial killer, going only by the name, Castiel-” _

“What kind of a bullshit name is that?!”

_ “-has made it his goal to violently murder any and every victim the well known killer, Dean Winchester, has spared.” _

Dean felt his stomach drop and his body grow warm, not out of anger, maybe not even out of fear, but because he was unnerved. He had never been personally attacked. He had never had his hard work, his years of patterned killings and sparings, get interrupted or messed with or rudely  _ destroyed  _ by some fuckwad with only one name.

_ “It seems that along with the murders, Castiel has put a price on Dean Winchester’s head. Similarly to the latter of the two, he uses security camera footage to communicate with both the authorities and Dean Winchester himself. We will now show footage but we warn you that the images are extremely graphic. Viewer discretion is advised.” _

Dean watched the screen with more intensity as the black and white footage started to roll. It took some time, but eventually the man in question stepped into frame, dragging a woman with him. Dean oogled at the blood already splattered along his trench coat (and, actually, what the  _ fuck  _ was with the trench coat?) and lowered himself back onto the foot of his bed as Castiel lifted the woman up by her neck and held her against his body, similar to what Dean had done to Jo only hours before.

_ “Can you say hi to the camera?” _ Castiel smiled and pointed in the desired direction with a blade. 

The woman, crying, eventually got passed her tears and indeed said hi to the camera.

_ “Oh, such a good girl,” _ Castiel praised and Dean felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.  _ “You want to tell the camera why you’re in this situation?”  _ he asked and Dean couldn’t help but get caught up in the deep gravel of his voice and his body pressed up against that girl’s and his hand wrapped firmly around her neck.

_ “Be-Because of Dean Winch-Winchester.” _

_ “Good for you!”  _ he exclaimed and then his eyes met the camera.  _ “Because of that weak-” _

What?

_ “-infantile-” _

Come again?

_ “-sentimental-” _

Definitely  _ not. _

_ “-piece of shit, you’re in this situation. Because Dean fucking Winchester doesn’t know how to get the job done. Doesn’t know how to tie and burn the goddamn loose ends. Doesn’t know how to take the life of  _ all  _ the beautiful women because he wants to get himself laid by one.” _

“This fucking  _ cock!”  _ Dean screamed, on his feet once again as he paced back and forth with his eyes on the tv.

_ “So, Dean, after years of terrorizing - if that’s what you want to call it - I think it’s about high time someone showed you how to get the job done.” _

Castiel proceeded to raise his blade and slice it down the girl’s shirt, splitting it open. He threw her down then and got on top of her, his blade carving into her stomach as she screamed and struggled against him. Dean wasn’t concerned about her however, his focus was entire on Castiel and the smile that was plastered on his face, the deep rumble of a laugh he let out from time to time during the murder and even after the girl was still.

_ “Ah,”  _ he sighed and looked into the camera.  _ “Ruthless, just how I like it. Oh, and Dean?”  _ he grinned and pulled out a handgun.  _ “I can’t wait to get my hands on  _ you. _ ” _

He shot out the camera then and Dean grumbled about how that was  _ his thing  _ before the news anchor came back on, her eyes watering rapidly.  _ “Horrible.”  _ She managed to choke out as she shook her head.  _ “There were many before that and police are sure he’s on the pursuit for more. If Dean Winchester, FBI wanted, has spared your life or the life of a friend please report this to local officials. Castiel has made it clear that he will find and brutally murder anyone who was allowed to live and it will continue until he finds satisfaction in taking the life of Dean Winchester. Mr. Winchester, if you’re listening to this, if you  _ know _ please come forward. Please surrender to him. Do something good for once in your life and end thi-” _

“I have done good in my life,” he snapped as he shut the tv off. “All this started because I was doing good! I was letting people live!” he screamed. “I let them live! I GAVE HER LIFE!” he roared and the next seconds were a blur. Dean knew he was breaking things. He knew he had thrown the tv across the room and broken a lamp and a mirror and a nightstand. He knew he was leaving fingerprints and evidence and destruction but he didn’t care. Some psychopath was out there trying to undo everything he had done. Trying to kill all of those he kept alive and it was driving Dean to a breaking point.

So he demolished until there was nothing left standing. Then he grabbed his bag, his keys, his jacket and left.

 

••

 

“Mr. Winchester, sir?”

“What Alfie?” Dean sighed from his spot on his bed, arm flung over his face.

“Sir, are you going to turn yourself in.”

“Hell. No,” he said and shot up before grabbing the food out of Alfie’s hands and putting it on the nearby table. “I will tell you what I  _ am  _ going to do, if you want to know.”

“Sure.”

“I’m gonna stuff my pie hole. I’m gonna drink. And I’m gonna watch some Asian cartoon porn and act like there’s a murderous lunatic on the run who wants my blood on his hands because there is.”

“Oh,” Alfie said with a small sigh. “Sir?”

“ _ Stop  _ with the sir. I’m gonna punch your teeth out if you call me sir one more time.”

“Sorry, I just…. I wanted to know if you were going to keep robbing and killing and such?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well…. Now that you have someone coming after you and you watched him kill some poor girl-”

“Aw, is that supposed to make me sad? Is that supposed to make me feel guilty and run for cover and suck on one thumb while shoving another up my fucking ass because I’m some sort of bitch? No, screw that. I still need to make my money.”

“You  _ have  _ money! What you need is to finally do something good-”

Dean had his gun out and aimed in the next second and Alfie promptly shut up. 

“What were you about to say to me?”

“Nothing.”

“You were gonna tell me to do some good in my life, weren’t you?”

“N-No, sir! No! Not sir! I-I-” Alfie yelped as Dean grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. His gun was pressed against the boy’s temple as his feet dangled off the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Alfie fired off.

“Shut the fuck up. You were gonna tell me to do something good in my life weren’t you? And don’t you _fucking_ lie to me, Alfie, don’t you fucking lie to me.”  
“I was!” he screamed and immediately after started crying. “I’m sorry! I was, I was, please don’t-don’t kill me! You can’t kill me I have-I have a little brother. I have a family, Mr. Winchester please don’t ki-kill me,” he sobbed and Dean sighed before dropping Alfie back to his feet and moving the gun away.

“I ain’t gonna kill you, kid,” he mumbled. “But don’t piss me off anymore!”

“Yes, of course! I’m- Never again.”

“Good.”

It was silent for awhile as Alfie tried to catch his breath and stop his crying. Dean went over to the table and started pulling out his food, satisfied with the order and the extra ketchup packages.

“Mr. Winchester? May I use your restroom?”

“Why? I got stuff in my bathroom.”

“I...I think I might’ve crapped myself.”

 

••

 

The news continued to circulate around the case of Castiel and every night, Dean would sit in front of his tv watching another girl get murdered and listening to another message get sent his way. Nine out of ten times Dean ended up drinking himself into oblivion, not wanting to face that he  _ needed  _ to face this. The one other time he was watching Dr. Sexy and couldn’t be bothered with news reports or threats or his returning alcoholism.

He figured there was  _ one  _ thing he could do about the whole ordeal. He still needed to go out and murder and steal, it was in his nature, an addiction almost, but when he did he left no stragglers, no survivors, no...future victims. He slaughtered groups, pairings, loners, and everything in between just to lessen the number of lives the trench coat got to take. Alfie wasn’t too impressed with his decision but an increase to his pay helped him keep his opinions to himself. 

Dean prided himself on handling the whole situation so responsibly and even treated himself to a few new weapons and few more bottle of booze to fill one more shelf. It was just all too bad when he cleared about half the newly restocked shelf in one night.

Reports kept piling in one after the other, day after day, week after week. Dean couldn’t escape it, he had accepted that. However, nothing could’ve prepared him for seeing his father’s face on the evening report; alive, thank God.

He looked tired but his eyes conveyed so much more: fear, pleading, pain, and maybe just a hint of hope.

Dean didn’t know why the reporters were at his childhood home or why they had pulled his dad out for an interview or why they were throwing all of this on him or why they made his dad look into the the camera like that and beg for Dean to stop; make him talk to him like he was a child, make him think that everything would be okay. Dean didn’t know  _ why _ they were doing that to him but he’d wish they would stop. He hadn’t seen his father in years and he definitely didn’t plan on his next chance to look like this. Not with a screen separating them. Not being unable to touch him, hug him, cry to him-

No, fuck that. Dean didn’t cry.

He hasn’t for years and he wasn’t going to start back up now. 

“Dean,” John croaked and Dean responded by frantically shaking his head and stepping away from the tv, “son, please stop this. I understand- No, I guess I don’t understand, but I know why you’re doing this. Why you’ve  _ been  _ doing this. Why you’ve been sparing those women. I know, Dean. But it’s not going to fix anything, none of this is going to fix anything. But you can save so many lives by turning yourself in. Not to that freak with the coat but to the police. Dean, don’t you dare give yourself up to Castiel. Don’t let that man kill you, okay? Just...Just come  _ home _ . Okay? Come home and we can fix all of this together, okay? We miss you and we still love you and-and just  _ stop  _ this. For me,” he sobbed and held a hand against his chest. For your mother-”

Dean let out a yell before throwing his fist into the screen, knocking it to the ground and stopping any and all programs for the time being. 

He fell to his knees and then back onto his heels. His eyes prickling with tears and his chest constricting uncomfortably.

His mind played his father’s message over and over again as the image of him talking into the camera became forever etched in Dean’s head. He wanted him to come home. He wanted Dean to come home and no matter how hard he tried Dean couldn’t help but smile at the thought of knocking on the door and being wrapped in his strong hold, being told it was going to be okay. That  _ he  _ was going to be okay. Maybe they’d share a few beers, invite over a few friends. Dean might even be able to see….

“No,” he fumed. “What gives you the damn right?” He pushed himself back onto his feet. “What gives anyone the right to do anything? What gives those assholes the right to go to my dad? To put him on tv like that an-an-and  _ attack  _ me. What gives them the right to attack  _ me?  _ Attack my family?” Dean looked down at his hands and slowly turned them over. “They let him know,” he said with a sudden realization. “They let him him know where….” He clenched his hands into fists before pressing them against his head. “ _ FUCK!” _ he cursed and slammed his foot into the tv screen repeatedly before turning away and frantically searching for his duffle bag. “I’m going to fucking  _ murder  _ them!” he fumed before grabbing his weapons and storming out of his apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

_ “I have to say, Winchester, your backfire is pretty clever,”  _ Castiel’s voice proclaimed over the radio.  _ “Limit my number of kills by increasing yours that...that I didn’t see coming,”  _ he laughed and Dean angrily turned up the volume.  _ “But here’s the thing, bub. That sure as hell isn’t going to stop me. I’ll just keep seeking out everyone you let live. And I mean  _ every. Fucking. Person.  _ Friends you could’ve diced up, family you couldn’t think twice about doing something to,  _ everyone.  _ So it’s in your best interest to just hand yourself right over isn’t it? Until next time, Dean.”  _ There was the sound of a woman screaming after that.  _ “Oh, and by the way, Daddy’s place looks real nice. It’s John right? Seems like a swell guy...maybe I should pay him a visit first.”  _ His laugh followed after but it cut away quickly as the newscaster took over. Dean turned the dial back down. 

An hour passed of Dean driving in silence before the sharp blare of his phone interrupted his thoughts. He dug around for it for a while before quickly pressing the green button and holding it against his ear. 

“Alfie, I told you a  _ thousand  _ times.  _ I _ call  _ you. Not  _ the other way around! Jesus Christ, kid, you really must want a bullet somewhere because-”

“Shut up,” a voice, sharp as ever, snapped.

Dean didn’t respond, mostly because he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say, so chose instead to sit in silence and focus on the road ahead. However, it seemed like the person on the other end of the line was at a loss for words too because he sure as hell wasn’t being a chatty Cathy. Dean rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the wheel before saying, “If you’re trying to trace this call it ain’t gonna work-”

“I’m not trying to trace the call!” the voice hissed back.

“I don’t know...geek like you,” he shrugged, “you might try.”

Sam sighed and Dean could almost see him rubbing his hand across his forehead. 

“How’d you get this number anyway-”

“Shut.  _ Up.” _

“Well, you’re sure as hell not talking! Someone’s gotta fill the silence, Sammy.”

“Don’t you  _ dare!  _ After all these years and after all you’ve done, don’t you  _ dare  _ call me that! You’re the reason my life is threatened right now!”

“Oh, I see you’ve heard from our dear friend, Castiel. He’s a real charmer, ain’t he?”

“You need to turn yourself in. Now. And...And not to the police,” he uttered. “Not like Dad said. You need to go to  _ him  _ and just get this over with! Let him do what he wants to you! Let him kill you!”

“I’m really feeling the brotherly love here, Sam, I gotta say.”

“You’re  _ not  _ my brother.”

“What?  _ The brother you knew died ages ago?”  _ Dean scoffed and shook his head. “Give me a break, Sam.”

“Castiel is going to  _ kill us.  _ Doesn’t that matter to you?! Don’t  _ we  _ matter to you?”

“Asks the guy who basically just told me to kill myself.”

Sam sighed heavily and Dean’s smirk slowly faded. 

“Course you matter to me,” he whispered into the phone and blinked back whatever was trying to escape his eyes. “That’s why I’m on my way to off those sons of bitches that put Dad’s face on tv.”

“Dean,  _ no!”  _

“No one messes with my family and gets away with it, Sammy. No one. Not even America’s favorite news crew.”

“Dean, I swear to God-”

Dean barked out a laugh. “Oh, He’s not gonna help you! He doesn’t give a crap about you Sam! If He did, all of this never would’ve happened! He’s not going to protect you or save you. I’m gonna set this straight. I’m gonna make sure you can sleep safe at night, you hear that? Don’t bother swearing to God, Sammy, alright? Swear to me.” 

 

••

 

Dean stared down his gun at the targets before him and found his hand was shaking. The bodies around him were dead and gone and he couldn’t care less about them. He  _ never  _ cared about the bodies or the people. Sometimes he kept them alive, sometimes he didn’t, it shouldn’t matter! It  _ didn’t  _ matter. Right?

Dean fired off two shots before firing at the security cameras, leaving only one for him to look into. 

“Castiel,” he hissed. “You and I need to talk.” He fired into the last camera before turning back to the pair huddled in the corner. A boy and his mother. A kid. Dean couldn’t kill a  _ kid.  _ And there was no way he could kill his mother right in front of him either. “Hey,” he said softly as he stepped closer to them. The woman pushed the boy behind her, whimpering as she pressed further against the wall. “No, no,” Dean said and raised his hands. “No, uh...look,” he said and slid his gun back into its holster. “It’s okay, see?” he said and showed his now empty hands. “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? Neither one of you. I-I wanna help you. I swear.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t do! Castiel will find out we’re-”

“No. No, I shot in your direction, as far as he knows you're dead.  As far as anyone knows you’re dead and you’re going to need to keep it that way for a while, you understand me?” She didn’t respond and Dean sighed heavily. “What’s your name, huh? I’m….” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, like she doesn’t know.”

“Mom? Maybe-”

“Ben,” she snapped back at him and Dean smiled and was able to catch the boy’s eye from his spot behind his mother.

“Ben? Hi, Ben, uh listen, I really wanna help you and your mom, I swear. I’ll even let you hold my gun, huh? Keep it trained on me just to make sure?” he asked and raised his eyes to his mother. “That sound fair?”

“I’ll take the gun,” she said. “And don’t you  _ ever  _ speak to my son again.”

Dean raised his hands again and nodded. “Got it. I’m going to reach for my gun now, okay?” he said and slowly did as he said he would before holding it out, handle first, towards the pair.

“Stay behind me, keep your arms around me,” she whispered to Ben before stepping forward and making her way to Dean. She snatched the gun out of his hand and trained it at his head. 

“Nice form,” he smiled.

“I’d shoot you right now if it weren’t for fear that other creep would hunt me down and kill me for taking his prize.”

“Silver lining,” Dean grinned. “Follow me,” he said before leading them out the way he came and over towards his (or, more correctly, someone else’s) car. “Front or back or-”

“Ben, get in the back,” she said and her son readily obeyed as she pulled the door to the passenger side open. Dean slid into the driver’s seat and not long after that, they were making their way down the road.

“Where are you taking us?” she asked, the gun still trained on Dean’s head.

“Old family cabin. It’ll take a few hours to get there and I’ll need to get you both food and crap. You’ll need to stay there about a month.”

“A  _ month?  _ And how do we know you won’t stop by and slit our throats?”

“Sweetheart, I have bigger things to worry about. I shouldn’t even be doing  _ this  _ so I promise I won’t let you or your kid inconvenience me again.”

_ “Us  _ inconvenience  _ you?  _ You just murdered our  _ friends!  _ You just walked into the station like it was no big deal and murdered them! Everyone! We-We shouldn’t have been there,” she whispered and closed her eyes. “Ben, I’m so so sorry, we shouldn’t have been there.”

“So you admit  _ you _ were the inconvenience?” Dean asked and her eyes flew back open. “Sorry,” he apologized and turned his eyes back to the road in front of him. The ride remained quiet for some time and Dean noticed the woman beside him was slowly starting to lose the battle against sleep. “Hey,” he said softly, “I think it’s pretty clear I’m not going to hurt you guys so why don’t you take a break from your watch and get some shut eye.”

“Not a chance,” she murmured and yawned. Dean couldn’t help but smile. 

“What’s your name?”

“Smaller chance,” she replied and Dean laughed lightly. 

“You know, I usually don’t save brunettes. It’s blonde or no one.”

“I’ve noticed. It’s the reason I’ve done as much banking as I could online.”

“What were you doing at the media center?” Dean asked as the gun in Lisa’s hand started to lower. 

She sighed and faced forward in her seat. “We were visiting a friend. We...We were going to take her out to dinner because….” She shook her head and looked over at Dean. “Why do you do it?”

“Because I do. There’s no reason to it.”

“I think there is,” she mumbled. “You’re not heartless.”

“Yeah, and how do you know?”

“One, because all it took was that prick threatening your family for you to show up and  _ finally  _ call him out. And two,” she said and sighed at him, “because you didn’t put a bullet in my or my son’s head.”

“Huh,” Dean mused and looked over at her. “Someone’s paying extra special attention to the program.”

“You’re America’s favorite reality show, Dean Winchester.”

He smiled and looked quickly at the road before looking back at her. “What’s your name?”

She smiled back and turned over, her back facing him. “I’m going to get some rest,” she sighed.

Dean stared at her a while after that before finally giving the road his complete attention.

“Uh, mister?” a small voice said from the back seat after some time.

“Sorry, kid, not allowed to talk to you.”

“Fine by me. Just listen…. Don’t...Don’t flirt with my mom. Ever.”

Dean snorted and gently nodded his head. “Don’t worry, kid. Even if I did, she’s smart enough not to give in.”

“Humph,” Ben grunted from the back seat as a grin broke across Dean’s face. “You got that right.”

 

••

 

Dean didn't go back home after that. He stayed near Ben and Lisa (yeah, that's right. _Lisa_ ) just to make sure they weren't bothered. Of course, they knew nothing about that and Dean planned on keeping it that way. 

After being satisfied that they were okay Dean parted ways. He didn't know where the hell he was going or what the hell he was doing, but he just kept on driving. His mind was occupied by the thought of Castiel and what he could possibly be doing right now. He wondered what he thought of Dean finally mentioning him, if he was willing to actually talk rather than continue threatening the very  _ few  _ people Dean actually cared about. There were so many ways for this whole thing to unfold but Dean was certain of one thing: He would die before he let that creep get anywhere near his family. If that’s what it boiled down to, if Dean couldn’t defeat him, he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat. Maybe leave his money with Alfie. Dean felt himself smiling at the thought of Alfie’s face if he stumbled upon all that money.

“Dumbass would probably turn it in.” He let his mind linger on Alfie long enough that it prompted him to pick up the phone and call him.

“Hello?”

“Why do you question that? You know who it is.”

“I...I don’t really know,” Alfie mumbled. “Everyone does it.”

“Don’t be like everyone,” Dean said. 

“Okay. I’ll try not to.”

“Good,” Dean smiled and let out a long sigh. “So, I called out the trench coat.”

“Yeah, I saw. You’re going to fight him?”

“Don’t know yet. It depends on what he says.”

Alfie was quiet for a moment before whispering, “Please be prepared.”

“For what?”

“For anything he does to you. If he tries to trap you or torture you or-or just straight up try to kill you! Be prepared, okay? Be careful!”

“Alfie,” Dean said as his smile grew into a grin, “you’re concerned about me?”

“Shut up. I just…. Would this be less awkward if I said it was about the money?”

Dean threw his head back in laughter and gently shook his head before sighing. “Oh, Alfie, if I could kiss you now I would.”

“Might as well, right?” Alfie mumbled. 

Dean smiled softly and let out a small sigh. “Can’t.”

“Why? How far are you from home?”

“It’s not about the distance, Alfie, it’s about the fact that I’m not  _ going  _ home,” Dean explained. “I have to stay on the road, wait for him to contact me. See where this final showdown is going to happen. Going back home isn’t an option right now. Not until this is finished.”

“And...And what if it doesn’t finish in the way you want it?”

Dean sighed and felt the corners of his mouth pull into a smile. “Then I still go home.”

Alfie was silent and Dean didn’t think to talk himself, he knew Alfie needed a moment to take this all in. He was surprised by how badly this seemed to be affecting Alfie. Sure, Dean gave him good pay and the two saw each other more than Dean saw anyone else but he never imagined growing such a strong bond with the kid. Alfie was more than a grocery boy or someone who delivered his meals and it upset Dean that now was the moment he was finally coming to realize this. Now, when he was on the road to possible death, did he realize he cared about the boy on the other end of the line and that boy cared just as much about him.

“I...I’m going to miss you,” Alfie whispered. 

“Hey, don’t give up on me just yet, kid,” Dean replied, feeling his throat start to prickle. “I can still come home. I’ll can still give you that kiss.”

Alfie scoffed and Dean let out a small chuckle of his own. 

“Look after the place until I get back, aright? And if…. Well, you have a place to take a chick up to every now and then. Show her a good time.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“You watch after yourself, Alfie.”

“You too, Dean,” he murmured back and Dean quickly hung up the phone before he risked letting that boy hear him cry.


	5. Chapter 5

It was another week before Dean (and the anxiously awaiting nation) heard anything from Castiel and when they finally did, it was only two simple words:  _ I’m listening.  _ They were said as he slit a girl’s throat.

Dean, mostly just wanting to speak to Castiel without the whole “show,” was irked with the fact that they had chosen security cameras as a form of communication. He couldn’t very well walk into any bank and politely ask for their camera use. No, he had to go in, make a scene, use up all of _his energy,_ and eloquently pass on small messages to be delivered to this fucking psychopath. Never had serial killing been such a chore. 

“You want me?” Dean huffed at the camera. “Come get me.”

“When?” Castiel inquired while choking a blonde haired woman.

“This weekend,” Dean panted and shot a man struggling to escape.

“Someone’s eager!” Castiel laughed deeply as he turned away from a massacre and stared into the camera. 

“I’m eager?” Dean asked. “I told you you’d get to see me this weekend and you killed and entire campaign committee.” Dean wiped the blood off his blade and onto his jacket.

Castiel grinned into the camera and snapped a girl’s neck. “Where?”

Dean pulled a blade out of a man’s skull before turning to the nearest camera and placing a finger against his lips.

 

••

 

“Charlie, I need a favor.”

“You always need a favor, Dean,” she sighed. “That’s how you and I became best buds after all.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he smirked and Charlie giggled. 

It had been some time since he spoke to her but whenever he did it was just like old times. Charlie was one of the world’s best con artists and had assisted Dean in some of his bigger robberies. The girl had a gift for technology and played that to her highest advantage. Something Dean clearly admired. She looked out for person number one; no ifs ands or buts. In light of his recent cliffhanger left for dear old Castiel, Dean had made contacting Charlie his top priority. He needed to get in contact with Castiel without the SWAT, FBI, and local police knowing their whereabouts at any given time.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, as you may know, I’m currently in a complicated situation.”

“Oh, yeah. You and your trench coated boyfriend are real cute.”

“Hilarious. I need to get into contact with him without anyone knowing I’m in contact with him.”

“Child’s play, Dean.”

“You do know he only has one name?”

“But everyone’s born with at least two. I’ll have you in contact with him by the end of tomorrow, easy peasy.”

“You are a lifesaver, Charlie.”

“Ironic that you’re going to be killing this guy then, isn’t it?”

Dean huffed a quick breath through his nose. “I never said whose life.”

 

••

 

“Dean Winchester,” Castiel repeated after Dean revealed who was on the other end of the line. “Mmm, it’s good to hear your voice so clearly. So close.”

Deciding to ignore that comment, Dean continued on with delivering message. “I know where I want you to meet me.”

“That so?” Castiel posed and Dean couldn’t understand how someone with a voice that rough could also have a voice that smooth.

“Illinois. You’re close?”

“Hm, close  _ enough. _ ”

“Good. I’m going to give you the coordinates  _ once. _ ”

“Well, go on then. I’m eagerly awaiting.”

Dean quickly relayed the information to Castiel who was surprisingly cooperative on the other end of the call. It was strange talking to someone who wanted to kill you like this. Like...acquaintances. He wanted Castiel to snarl at him over the phone, to snap his responses and promise bloodshed. He wanted Castiel to describe how he was going to kill him in detail and make Dean’s blood boil when he brought up his family. What he got instead was Castiel casually asking “Is there a set time?” and humming softly to himself as he wrote down the information Dean gave him. It was wrong. It was uncomfortable. It was unnerving. He sounded like “just another guy” and not someone Dean had watched brutally murder thousands of women. If Dean had no prior knowledge of this man and what he could do, he might’ve trusted him. Part of him still seemed to want to.

That part needed to shut the fuck up.

“Is that it then?” Castiel sighed. “Are we all set for your final showdown?”

“You’re confident.”

“There’s no reason for me not to be,” he hummed back.

Dean’s grip on the phone tightened and he let out a small breath of a laugh. “Oh, believe me I could think of a few.”

 

••

 

_ “Dean, how long are you gonna live for?” Sam’s small voice asked as he looked up at his brother standing on the sofa, a red blanket knotted around his neck into a makeshift cape. _

_ “Forever!” Dean declared loudly and jumped from the sofa to the armchair. “Nothing can stop me! I’m never touching the lava!” _

_ “Dean!” Sam whined just as his brother got onto the coffee table. “I mean for real how long.” _

_ “Still forever,” Dean replied with his chin held high. _

_ Sam pouted as Dean eyed a spot on the tv stand. _

_ “Well, how long am  _ I  _ going to live for?!” Sam whined and Dean looked over his shoulder at his little brother and grinned.  _

_ “As long as me, of course!” _

Dean’s eyes flew open, the memory forgotten, as he heard the large barn door start to open. He pressed his back up against a bale of hay and double checked his gun’s ammo before taking a deep breath. He didn’t care how Castiel thought this damn thing was going to go. Dean wasn’t taking any chances.

He spun around the bale, gun raised, and started shooting - not to kill, but definitely to slow the bastard down. He shot him in the arm twice, both of his legs, and hit his right shoulder before lowering the gun with a smile. 

The smile quickly fell however when Castiel looked down at his injuries and kept walking. 

“What in the hell?” Dean mused, too horrified at the fact that this man just walked off five fucking  _ bullets _ , to wrap his head around the fact that said man was now only a foot away from him. He fumbled for a blade and made a move of stabbing him in the chest.

Castiel smiled and pulled the blade out.

And all at once there was a hand wrapped his shirt and he was being thrown to the ground.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Castiel drawled and placed a foot on his chest before leaning down with a smile. “You couldn’t have honestly thought it would be  _ that  _ easy, could you? That’s so…I’d say cute but I think we’re leaning a little more towards pathetic.”

“How?” Dean growled and grunted as Castiel applied more pressure to his chest. “You shouldn’t be walking right now!”

“A disease, Dean. A horrible, horrible disease. And, well, I’d love to go into detail but I’ll just give you the cliff notes. I can’t feel shit,” Castiel laughed. “You can do all the shooting and stabbing you want but I. Won’t. Feel. It.” 

Dean could feel his eyes widening and Castiel laughed harder at the look of terror Dean was sure was on his face. 

“So get comfy, Dean. Because this night just got-”

Castiel toppled over as Dean took the opportunity of distractful arrogance to pull Castiel’s leg out to one side and set him off balance. He then moved on top of the man, pulling back his fist and ramming it into Castiel’s face before he was discouraged by Castiel’s laughter and his momentary stun was the momentum Castiel used to get back in control. Unlike Dean’s, Castiel’s punches didn’t end in laughter but in - just like any  _ normal  _ fucking situation - pain. Dean pushed at his face, hoping that would weaken the punches in some way but Castiel only responded by pulling back and jabbing a fist into Dean’s side. His hands were around his throat in the next second and he leaned down as he pressed in harder, a mad grin upon his face.

“You know, I used to like you,” he hissed as Dean clawed at his hands. “When you first showed up I was obsessed,” he whispered. “I couldn’t get enough of you, Dean. I lived for you and what you did, I never wanted to miss a damn second of it!” He pulled his hands away and Dean coughed roughly as his body fought to get air in. Castiel moved his knees up to Dean’s biceps, making sure they pressed in hard enough to hold them down. “I wanted you  _ so damn bad,”  _ he whispered and lowered his forehead against his. “Wanted you to…. Mmm,” he moaned and bit his lip as his eyes fluttered shut. Dean couldn’t help the low heat that started to build in his stomach. “But then, as I kept watching, I started to realize how weak you actually were. Sparing those women,” he spat. “And I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t understand why you were doing it so I made the decision to stop you before you got any weaker. Any more embarrassing. I knew I’d have to kill you and I knew how to get your attention. All it took was your family.” Castiel’s face started to break into a grin once more and a deep, dark laugh spilled from his lips. “Your  _ family  _ how  _ sweet!  _ And now what, Dean, hm? You can’t even save them! You can’t do  _ shit  _ for them. They’re going to die,” he breathed as Dean’s breaths started to come in quicker, more uneven. “I’m going to  _ murder  _ the-”

Dean screamed as he snapped his head forward, bashing it against Castiel. He knew he probably suffered more from that than the man on top did but it was enough to shove him off, get a blade out, and slice it across Castiel’s stomach. He stepped back after that, towering over Castiel’s body.

“You really aren’t the brightest of the bunch, are you?” Castiel taunted through laughter. “I can’t  _ feel,  _ Dean. I can’t feel anything you do to me!” he yelled and pushed himself to his feet. 

“No,” Dean sighed, “you can’t. But,” he started, “your body  _ will  _ react to rapid blood loss one way or another and I will have my shot.”

Castiel looked down at his stomach and Dean took the opportunity to charge forward and knock him onto his back. He dug the blade into his shoulder before pulling back, just as Castiel’s fist swung, and reaching behind him to slice it up against his calf. 

“Not as dumb as you think, huh?”

Castiel shot forward but Dean easily pushed him back down, craning his head back far enough to keep from Castiel’s fully extended arms. 

“Keep on strugglin, angel, you’ll just bleed out faster.”

And just as Dean said, soon enough Castiel’s efforts became weaker and more lagged and it wasn’t long before he has passed out. Dean groaned as he finally stood up off of him and rolled his head, satisfied with the feeling of his joints popping. 

“Well, that oughta do it!” he smiled and gently nudged at Castiel’s leg. “You can keep on breathing, Sammy,” he laughed. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked around the barn and slowly his eyes came back to Castiel. His gaze traced over Castiel’s face, lingering for a while on the sharp cut of his jaw, before it ran down his body once...and then again...and thrice more after that. “Hm,” he mused and lowered himself before extending a hand towards his neck. “Whoa, there.” Dean pushed out a small laugh as he pulled his hand back. “Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing? Who cares if he’s alive or not, you wanted him dead, right? Because him being alive means that your family is in danger and you can’t have that. Won’t have that. You won’t fuck up on that one again, right? He’s dead. Or dying and that’s all that matters.” Dean nodded to himself but one more small glance at Castiel had his fingers pressed up against his neck and his head by his mouth, turned to the side as he listened for breathing. “Fuck,” Dean hissed and pulled back before snatching Castiel up by the front of his shirt. “I hope you fucking realize that this is all fucking because you want some fuck with a fucking _ugly ass_ ** _coat_** to suck your goddam dick. I hope you _fucking_ realize!” he screamed as he stood up and lifted Castiel over his shoulder. “Or maybe your fucking queer ass wants a dick down it’s _own_ throat, huh? Is that fucking it you piece of….” He grumbled the rest of the way out of the barn and all the way back into the nearby town before he found a car. He rummaged it for supplies, finding some old shirts in the trunk and using those to tie tightly around Castiel’s injuries. After practically shoving him into the car, Dean and Castiel were taking off down the road in search of a much needed resting point. 

It proudly announced itself about 30 miles out and Dean made quick transactions, his face hidden beneath a hoodie he found in the car, before hauling Castiel into their motel room and throwing him onto the nearest bed. Dean stood at the foot of it, hands on his hips as he stared down at the unconscious, chest hardly rising (if it was rising  _ at all _ ) Castiel.

Great. He had just won himself a fucking corpse.

“Oh, come on,” Dean groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose before extending his fingers to his temples and roughly wiping down his face. “Well!” Dean sighed. “You have him here! You have his dead fucking body here so what in the  _ shit  _ are you going to do next, Dean Winchester? I think necrophilia has been calling your dumb as all shit name! Mother  _ fuck!”  _ Dean took a step back and studied Castiel before rolling his eyes and going back out to the car.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean was finishing the stitching on Castiel’s abdomen (his calf and shoulder already taken care of) and thirty minutes after that he was graciously helping himself to the mini bar.

It wasn’t until 3:36am that Castiel finally made some sign of life.

Dean was sitting on the other bed, eyes glued to the tv, when Castiel slowly let out a small breath of a sigh and squeezed his eyes shut tightly before opening them. 

“Whainthe...fuck,” he murmured and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey,” Dean said easily as he got to his feet.

“You-”

“Saved your life,” he revealed and pointed to the stitching. 

Castiel looked down at his chest, then his leg, and finally back to Dean. “Your stitching is crappy.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you ever so kindly for saving me after trying to kill me.”

“You tried to kill me, too.”

“And I would have kept it that way if I had succeeded,” he snarled. “What is this supposed to gain you? A insignificantly cleaner conscious? Just like I said,” he scoffed, “you’ve gotten weak.”

“Believe me, sunshine, it wasn’t my first choice.”

“It wouldn’t have even  _ been _ a choice for me.”

“You want a fucking medal?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed in Dean’s direction which provoked Dean to roll his. He turned his back on the now conscious man and set his glass down. He leaned against the small counter before turning back around and crossing his arms over his chest. 

Castiel was gripping the edge of the bed, his head hung as he took deep breaths. Dean wasn’t concerned about his struggle to stay alive, more occupied with the sight of his dress shirt being unbuttoned and exposing much of his chest. He was more toned than Dean could’ve imagined.  _ Not  _ that he ever did of course. No, it’d be inappropriate to think about the man who wanted to kill you in that way. It’d be messed up.

Then again, it  _ was  _ the basis for saving him.

Dean kept his eyes on Castiel, his tongue dragging itself against his bottom lip as Castiel raised his head, eyes shut, and let out a slow sigh of air. 

“Obsessed,” Dean mumbled and watched Castiel’s brow furrow before he opened his eyes. 

“What?”

“You said you were obsessed with me when you first saw me.”

“Hm, that’s true. I did say that.”

“Did you mean it?” Dean asked and pushed himself off the counter before taking careful steps towards him.

Castiel bit his lip and looked up towards the ceiling, a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. “I guess I did.”

“And you said…. You said you wanted me.”

The smile that was hiding on Castiel’s face broke out into a full grin and he slowly started shaking his head. “Of course,” Castiel chuckled. “Dean Winchester is worried about getting laid. Typical,” he scoffed and let his eyes fall back on Dean just as he got close enough that he was standing in between his legs. “Is that it?” Castiel mumbled as Dean lowered himself onto his knees. “You saved me because you haven’t been between someone’s legs in a while?” He reached up quickly and grabbed Dean by the back of his head, yanking roughly on his hair and exposing his neck more fully. “Or maybe it’s because it’s been awhile since you’ve had someone between  _ yours.” _

“You wanted me to do things to you,” Dean panted as Castiel leaned forward, his grip still tight in Dean’s hair. 

“Is that all you got from that, Dean?” Castiel chuckled as Dean moved himself closer and reached out towards Castiel’s belt, relieved when the other man didn’t try to stop him. “All you heard was how I once wanted to fuck you,” the last two words came out as a growl as he pulled Dean’s head back more. 

“I...I fucking hated you when I first saw you,” Dean grumbled. “But I still wanted you.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“I still hate you.”

Castiel breathed out a laugh and pulled Dean’s head closer. “But you’re willing to put all that hate aside for someone to fuck you…. Poor, Dean,” Castiel whined in mock sympathy as he dragged the back of his free hand down Dean’s jaw. “He’ll do anything for affection. He craves it so much he’ll let the man who wants to kill him run his hands all over his body.” Castiel smiled before letting Dean’s hair go and moving his hands to his sides as Dean lurched forward and attached his mouth to Castiel’s neck, kissing and sucking hungrily at the skin there before moving down his chest. “Even worse,” Castiel gasped as Dean frantically started unbuttoning his dress pants. “He’ll let the man who wanted to kill his  _ family  _ run his hands all over him. Oh, Dean…. You really are one sick dog, aren’t you?”

He could say whatever the fuck he wanted to, Dean wasn’t paying him any attention. And Castiel had a lot of nerve acting laid back and uninterested when the hard bulge in his dress pants told another story. Arrogant son of a bitch. He’d probably talk through the entire blowjob, too. Just to say he did. He’d probably make some joke about having Dean wrapped around his finger which Dean  _ wasn’t _ . He was probably one of those guys who let Dean get him off but never returned the favor. Fucking prick. He should get up right now and shoot the fucker in the head. 

And then, Castiel’s hand was under his chin and tilting his face upwards. He still had that dumb as fuck smile on his face and his eyes were absolutely gleaming. He ran a thumb over Dean’s bottom lip, pulling it down just slightly before letting it settle back into place. His other hand moved to his pants, pushing Dean’s out of the way before he pulled out his dick and slowly started stroking it. His eyes stayed on Dean while Dean’s stayed on Castiel’s arousal. 

Maybe Dean didn’t need to shoot him right  _ now.  _ They guy had already had a tough enough day! And he’s made clear what he wants, so it’s not like Dean has to second guess on what to do to cheer him up!

He leaned in closer to Castiel but was stopped as a hand shot forward and gripped his shoulder. 

Dean wanted to yell. Actually, Dean wanted to do  _ anything  _ but make the noise he just did because Dean Winchester doesn't whimper. Not before, not now, not ever.

“Aw, sweetheart,” Castiel cooed in response to Dean’s...outburst. “You’ll get to, don’t worry,” he smiled as he hand continued to move up and down his cock. “Just let me enjoy this a while. You look gorgeous when you’re aggravated.”

“You keep playing games and I won’t-” Dean was cut off by Castiel’s booming laugh and frowned up at him.

“Oh,” he sighed, still laughing, and shook his head. “Yes, you will.”

Dean swallowed and watched Castiel’s eyes light up even more. 

“But you’re right, I’ve been a little harsh. We already don’t like each other so I shouldn’t push it anymore.” He stared into Dean’s eyes for a while before removing his hand from his dick and leaning backwards onto his elbows. “Ready when you are.”

Dean shot forward, his hands moving to Castiel’s hips and his mouth covering the head of his cock. 

‘Jesus Christ, get any more eager and you’ll nut the next time he so much as looks at you.’ Dean would’ve rolled his eyes if he wasn’t so occupied with the sharp hiss that was coming out of Castiel’s mouth and the weight of his dick on his tongue. It encouraged him to push forward, forgetting all about his embarrassing excitement, and take all of Castiel into his mouth, eliciting a moan out of the man, before pulling back entirely and yanking Castiel’s pants down to his knees. He brought his mouth to the inside of Castiel’s right thigh and his hand up and around his cock, pumping and swirling slowly around it. 

Castiel’s breathing was getting more and more labored with each flick of Dean’s tongue and with every wet kiss Dean left on his thighs he let out a low moan. His hips lurched forward when Dean’s mouth finally found its way to his balls and his hand moved back into Dean’s hair, roughly pulling on it again to force his mouth back to his dick, moaning when his tongue swirled sensuously around his head.

Dean moaned around Castiel’s erection before allowing his hands to move down to his own to press against it and attempt to free it from the restraint of his jeans. However, he did little more than get his fingertips over his fly before a pair of hands wrapped around his wrists and slammed them onto the bed, one on either side of Castiel.

“No,” he seethed in his direction and Dean felt himself gulp, his cock becoming - somehow - even harder. “Finish,” Castiel ordered and raised his hips.  _ “Finish,”  _ he demanded again and Dean gently nodded before moving closer and taking Castiel fully into his mouth. Dean watched as his head fell back and his mouth parted in pleasure. He squeezed Dean’s wrists tighter before slowly easing his grip and leaning forward, his hips jutting forward as Dean’s tongue slid down his underside and back up again. Dean’s eyes were still on Castiel, tracing over his face and down his neck. He wanted more than just this. More than just being on his knees giving Castiel head until he was “finished.” He let himself look over Castiel’s face one more time, grateful when his eyes fluttered open and was met with the sight of Dean staring up at him. His grip on Dean’s wrists loosened almost immediately and Dean took the opportunity to move forward and push Castiel onto his back before moving up his body and pushing his tongue between his already parted lips. 

They both let out groans and the sensation of having their mouths pressed up against one another’s. The kiss was rough and greedy and sloppy. Castiel’s hands moved to Dean’s jacket and viciously started pushing at it.

“Eager?” Dean breathed against Castiel’s mouth, his own formed into a smirk.

“That’s rich coming from the guy who was just about ready to suck my cock off my body.”

“Mmm,” Dean hummed and pulled back before sitting up and tossing his jacket to the side.

“All of it,” Castiel growled and jutted his head towards Dean. “Now.”

“Oh, you’re definitely winning in the eagerness department, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it away. Dean grinned at the sight of Castiel licking his lips and ran a hand through his hair. “Something tells me you can get off to just the sight of me, darling.”

“Have before.”

Dean grinned and reached for the button of his jeans before quickly undoing it along with the zipper. He tugged them down just enough to pull his cock out and breathed a sigh of relief once it was finally free. “God,” he panted and pumped it through his fist once. “You want me to keep going like this?” Dean asked and started moving his fist more rapidly.

Castiel grunted a response and Dean bit his lip, eyes falling closed while he continued to touch himself, his breaths turning into moans and those into grunts as he felt his cock start to slick up with his precum. 

Castiel’s hands made their way to Dean’s hips and he sat up, opening his mouth against Dean’s neck and pulling him closer against his chest. The head of Dean’s erection was pressed against Castiel and it only seemed to increase his pleasure. His hips lurched forward and Castiel moaned against his neck before moving to his chest and sucking a nipple into his mouth.

“Cas,” Dean whined, his hand moving even faster as the other tangled itself in Castiel’s hair. “Fuck...more. I want more, please.” And god _ dammit  _ he was whimpering again. 

Castiel moved his mouth back up and over Dean’s before running his tongue over Dean’s bottom lip. “Take your pants off,” he panted.

Dean pulled himself away from Castiel before hastily pulling his pants off and throwing them to the ground. He picked up his jacket then and quickly pat down his pockets before reaching into one and pulling out a small tube.

“Good boy keeping that on you,” Castiel said and took it out of his hand before unscrewing the top as Dean got back on his lap and started grinding down on him. “Such a good boy,” he breathed and raised his own hips up to meet Dean’s as he moved a hand between them and started to rub the lube down his cock. Dean lifted himself up to position himself over Castiel but was shoved back down almost immediately. Castiel took Dean’s cock into his hand and pulled on it slowly. “What’s the rush?” Castiel grinned as Dean let out a cry and thrusted into Castiel’s fist. 

“Castiel,  _ please,” _ he begged. “I want more, Castiel. I want  _ more!” _

“More what, Dean? You  _ have  _ to be more specific,” he laughed.

‘Should’ve shot him in the head,’ Dean growled to himself now.

“I want...you.”

“Want me to what, Dean?”

“I want you inside me,” Dean spat out. “I want you to fuck me.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he praised and lifted Dean’s hips before allowing him to lower himself onto his cock. 

Dean’s back arched immediately at the feeling of pleasure and Castiel took the opportunity to capture Dean’s mouth with his, their tongues sliding ravenously against one another’s as Castiel’s hips raised to meet Dean’s. Dean’s arms draped themselves lazily on Castiel’s shoulder as his hands ran through the hair at the back of his head. He had to hand it to Castiel, the dude had a stamina that was out of this world. After losing so much blood that night, he still managed to keep himself up and fucking. And he was damn good at it too.

Castiel pulled away from Dean’s mouth prompting the latter to chase his lips with his own until they were connected again. Castiel’s thrusting was getting faster, rougher, and it was causing Dean’s hands to grip at his hair, the only thing that seemed to be grounding him in his state of ecstasy. Castiel’s arms were soon wrapped around Dean, one encircling his waist and the other coming across his shoulder blades as he fucked himself harder into Dean. His head fell to Dean’s shoulder, his teeth clenched together as he came closer and closer to the edge. 

Dean came before Castiel, his moan filling the entire room while Castiel continued driving into him, his cum landing on Castiel’s stomach while his body shook with pleasure. 

Castiel followed soon after, emitting a groan as his hold on Dean tightened and his cock filled Dean.

Dean caught Castiel’s mouth in another rough kiss as his hands moved to his shoulders. It was only a few seconds before he felt Castiel go slack and his lips went still. Dean pulled away to look at him - wondering what on earth could be happening to stop the kiss - and brought his hands up from his shoulders before Castiel fell back onto the bed. His eyes were closed and his body limp against the mattress. 

“Castiel?” Dean mumbled as he looked down at the man. No response. “Hey.....  _ Dipshit,”  _ he said and shoved Castiel’s face. Still, there was no reply. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he sighed exasperatedly. 

Dean pressed two fingers to Castiel’s neck and was (solely for the confirmation that he didn’t have a corpse’s dick inside him) relieved to find a pulse.

“Heh,” he chuckled as he lifted himself off of Castiel’s cock. “That good, huh?” he asked, choosing to ignore the fact that Castiel had suffered from major blood loss and had most likely fainted because of that fact. He didn’t get an answer, of course, but smiled as if he had. “I’m  _ never  _ going to let you live this down. Mark this as the night I, Dean Winchester, fucked someone so good they passed out.” He turned to look at Castiel and let his grin grow. “Oh, darling, I think I’m gonna want to keep you around.”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was absolutely certain that it would take  _ millennia  _ to forget the look of complete horror on Alfie’s face. He could be brainwashed, reborn, and diagnosed with a memory destroying disease but he’d still have that look implanted in his brain because ho-ly f _ uck  _ it was just too good.

“Are you not aware that that is the same man who tried to  _ kill you?” _

“Oh, I’m completely aware, Alfie,” Dean grinned as he leaned against the wall in his small apartment. “But he fucks me like a god so I’m not really complaining-”

“You should be!” Alfie squeaked and Dean sighed. “How do you know he won’t turn on you?”

“We made a deal.”

“You made a- Oh!” Alfie exclaimed and threw up his hands. “Well,  _ my mistake!  _ You made a deal with a criminal who has no morals and murders for fun. Phew!” he sighed and mockingly wiped the sweat off his brow. “Glad we dodged the bullet! Metaphorically and  _ literally!” _

Dean couldn’t help but smile and softly shake his head. “Hey, it’s been a week since you thought I was dead and I’m still here. He hasn’t done anything to me for that long. You should be grateful.”

“I am grateful, Dean, I am. But...But it’s  _ him!  _ He’s….” Alfie looked over Dean’s shoulder and let his eyes go over Castiel sitting pretty on Dean’s bed. “Bad.”

“And I’m not?”

“Two negatives don’t make a positive.”

“Actually, in several cases they do.” Alfie fixed Dean with an exasperated glare. “This is one of those cases.”

The younger of the two rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it.”

“I’m not going to bring him any food.”

“Well, then you can bring two orders for me. Okay?”

Alfie stared at Dean for a while, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to fight back whatever words so eagerly wanted to spill from his mouth.

“Hey,” he called and moved his eyes from Dean to Castiel. “Don’t hurt him,” he said sternly once Castiel met his eyes. 

Castiel’s mouth quirked up into a smirk and his eyes seemed to get brighter.

“You...You hurt him and I-I’ll….” Castiel lifted his eyebrows, a silent gesture for Alfie to go on. “I’ll kill you.”

His smirk turned into a grin while his eyes stayed latched on the boy’s. “You’re tempting me.”

Alfie’s eyes grew wide but he kept himself together fairly well, swallowing down his discomfort. He looked back to Dean and decided to ignore the look of surprise he found on his face. “I’m leaving now.”

“Uh, yeah…. Alright.”

“Don’t be stupid about this,” he warned before turning away and opening the door.

“Right,” Dean mumbled before exclaiming “Oh!” and moving forward to grab Alfie by the wrist. “I almost forgot,” he grinned and pulled him closer before tilting his chin up and softly placing his lips against his.

Alfie noticeably stiffened but didn’t pull away. In fact, his free hand wrapped itself lightly around the hem of Dean’s shirt and pulled him closer.

The kiss didn’t last more than a few seconds and when Dean pulled away he was smiling. “I owed you that, didn’t I?”

“You owe me a lot more for all the stress you cause me,” Alfie replied while letting go of Dean’s shirt. “But, yeah. I’ll take that for now.”

Dean gave him one last smile before finally letting him go and shutting the door behind him.

“Keep doing stuff like that and I’ll start getting jealous,” Castiel taunted and looked up at Dean. “And jealous me isn’t very kind.”

“Don’t hurt him.”

“My God, you two are  _ made  _ for each other.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re a damn pain.”

“Why not hurt him though? He’s just another liability,” Castiel stated as Dean walked over to him. “Just another pathetic attempt at companionship from you,” he sighed. “Why do you insist on keeping all these ties, Dean? I’m curious.”

Dean didn’t answer but instead straddled Castiel’s waist and slowly kissed him.

“Is this going to be the only way to get you to shut up?” Dean asked, his nose pressing against Castiel’s own.

“Uhh,” Castiel pondered while looking up towards the ceiling. “Yes.”

Dean grinned and brought his mouth back to Castiel’s while shoving him down onto the mattress, his hips already grinding down roughly onto his. By the time Dean had his shirt off and Castiel’s halfway unbuttoned, he was the one on his back and Castiel had taken quick control. Dean found that he liked the way Castiel handled him. How he held him down and ordered him around. How he teased Dean right to the brink of an orgasm before pulling away altogether. Dean enjoyed the feeling of Castiel pressing his face into a pillow while fucking him from behind just as much as he enjoyed the words he spat into his ear. He reveled in the hold Castiel often had on his throat, how it tightened with each thrust into him. Dean never would’ve imagined enjoying that type of domination so much, but now that he had experienced it there was no going back.

Currently, Castiel was holding Dean’s wrists together high above his head, his hips moving slowly against his as his cock moved slowly in and out of him. Dean couldn’t do much more than moan out slurred words and chase after Castiel’s lips whenever he pulled away. He knew Castiel liked all of this too. Liked being in control and shoving Dean into whatever position he wanted. 

“Fuck,” Castiel panted out now as he moved forward into Dean again. “I feel good don’t I?” he asked through lidded eyes as Dean’s back arched off the bed. “I’m the best fuck you’ve ever had, aren’t I?” he pressed on while Dean grabbed his hips and pressed them harder against his. “No one’s ever put a cock like mine in you. Your first guy was a fucking joke, wasn’t he?” Castiel wrapped a hand around Dean’s throat and thrusted into him once and hard. “Answer me,” he demanded and Dean let out a whine. “Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good I feel, Dean.”

“S-So good,” he pushed out.

“Yeah?” Castiel smiled and started moving his hips again. He wrapped an arm around the back of Dean’s knee and hoisted his leg higher.

“Best I’ve- Jus…. Just the fucking best….”

“I know, baby,” Castiel grunted and shoved himself deeper into Dean. “I know you like my cock. I know you like how I fuck you and how pathetic you get underneath me, I know,” he panted and moved both of his hands to Dean’s hips as his own started moving faster and harder against him. “And you like when I cum in you,” he hissed. “Fuck, you like when I-” Castiel stopped short as he thrusted himself forward once more. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned as his hips jolted forward. “Dean….” 

The feeling of Castiel releasing inside of him was all Dean needed before he was experiencing an orgasm of his own, his cum covering his own stomach as he rode his high.

Castiel pulled out of him a second later and got off the bed before moving into the bathroom.

Dean was still on his back, panting heavily. He raised a hand to his forehead and smiled before dragging it down his face. A washcloth landed near him in the next moment and he quickly picked it up before running it down his stomach. 

“You know,” Castiel said and Dean turned his head to look at him, his eyes tracing up and down his naked form, “my calf still looks like a bitch, Winchester. I probably shouldn't even fucking walk on this thing.”

He sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Suck it up. I got you everything you needed for all your shit.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than happy about my blood levels being back to normal, but god _ damn  _ this thing is annoying as hell,” he huffed and twisted his body around to look down at the long, jagged cut. “The grade D stitching always gets caught on my pants. My shoulder and abdomen aren’t any better.”

“The fuck do you want me to do about it?” Dean asked and sat up on one elbow as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Be better at stitching me up next time,” Castiel mumbled and looked away from his injury before focusing back on Dean. “Seriously though. I need this leg to  _ not  _ be a problem when we go back out.”

“So,” Dean shrugged, “we’ll wait till your whining ass is all better. Problem solved!” He grinned as Castiel rolled his eyes and made his way back over to the bed after shutting off the lights. 

“I want to be better now.”

“You’re such a child,” Dean sighed as Castiel got back in their bed. 

Castiel, electing to ignore that comment, reached over Dean for a bottle of beer on the nightstand and sighed at its light weight. 

“Get that kid to get us some more tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean yawned as Castiel settled onto his back. 

“Alright then,” he sighed and closed his eyes. “Try not to be facing me in the morning, your face always freaks me the hell out.”

“Screw yourself.”

“Mm, that’d put you out of a job.”

Dean smiled as Castiel let out a long sigh and moved a hand behind his head. 

Dean kept his eyes on Castiel’s profile, tracing it up and down in the dim light, for some time. He really hated how attractive the man beside him was and how he made him feel. It hadn’t just be years since Dean had been sexually intimate with someone, it had been years since Dean had been intimate in  _ any  _ way. And of course, it had to be for the psycho with the trench coat.

He moved closer to Castiel and wrapped a hand around his waist just as he laid a head on his shoulder.

That was a mistake.

Dean yelled as Castiel twisted his arm and sat up in the bed.

“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Castiel snarled as Dean hissed painfully at his still twisting arm.

“I- Nothing! I was-”

“What do you think is going on here? Do you think I’m your goddamn boyfriend? Do you want me to hold your hand and kiss away all your problems? I do not give a shit about you, Winchester, I will kill you right now if you can’t see that. You’re nothing but a good lay, you got that?!” Castiel stressed.

“I got it!” Dean screamed back before raising his free arm and shoving Castiel away with it. “I wasn’t doing shit anyway.”

“Don’t try to bullshit me. Fucking sentimental prick,” Castiel spat. “I’m not here to perch on your shoulder and make all the bad shit go away.”

“I know that!” Dean snapped and turned away from him. “Jesus Christ would you shut up about it?! I’m trying to sleep.”

“If I knew fucking you was going to make you get feelings for me I would’ve driven something else into you.”

Dean didn’t respond, but instead pulled his pillow halfway over his head and groaned loudly.

“Stay on your own fucking side, got that?”

Dean turned around and landed his fist against Castiel’s face. “If you ain’t gonna shut up on your own, I’ll do it for you! Now, shut the  _ fuck up  _ and let me sleep!”

Dean laid back on his side, breathing heavily in anger as Castiel settled back down mumbling to himself about pathetic Dean was.

It was later in the night, when Castiel’s snoring let Dean know he was definitely asleep, that he finally let himself cry.


	7. Chapter 7

“You sure you’re ready?” Dean asked from the driver’s side of a stolen vehicle.

“More than,” Castiel said, his face breaking into a grin. “It’s been some time since I had my hands around someone,” he laughed and then looked over at Dean. “You know, in the nonsexual way.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s go.”

To say the group of people inside the bank were shocked was a  _ vast  _ understatement. It had been weeks since anything was heard about Dean or Castiel and the nation was content to think they had killed off one another at their “Grand Battle.” What the country didn’t expect was a teamup.

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel laughed as he looked around the room. “This group’s ripe for the picking!”

“I’d say so,” he agreed. “Alright! You all know the drill.”

“Or can guess it,” Castiel added.

“We want our money and we want it now!”

Castiel raised his gun and fired off a few rounds into the ceiling, laughing heartily as Dean’s lips slowly pulled into a smile.

 

••

 

Dean gazed upon Castiel carefully, watching as he shoved another two fries into his mouth and took a bite out of his burger. He watched as Castiel wiped his hands on a napkin and took a long sip of his drink before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. 

Dean hated himself for it. 

Hated how he looked at Castiel, how he talked about Castiel, how he felt about Castiel. He hated it.

But he couldn’t deny himself of it anymore. He couldn’t keep pretending what he felt wasn’t there because if anyone deserved to know and have it confessed to them it was him.

He was in love with him. In love with the one man who would never,  _ could  _ never, love him back. Castiel told him from the beginning he couldn’t feel anything and while Dean was positive he meant it in the physical aspect, he couldn’t help but argue that it was there in the emotional aspect as well.

He was in deep shit.

Castiel raised his eyes and was met with Dean’s.

“What?”

“You done?” Dean asked and gestured to his food. 

“Just about. Why?”

“I wanna get you home already,” Dean murmured and Castiel rolled his eyes. 

“Don’t worry. No matter what time we get back I’ll let you suck me off, alright?”

“Could you like….” Both men looked up and over at Alfie who was standing guard by the door. “Either hurry it up or save the bedroom talk for later?”

Dean snorted and Castiel smiled broadly.

“Does conversation like this bother you?”

“Yes, actually-”

“Or does conversation like this between  _ me and Dean _ bother you?”

“Alright, we’re going,” Dean said and stood up before starting over to the door with Castiel in tow. “Thanks for letting us hang out here.”

“Yeah, sure,” Alfie mumbled, his eyes cast low. 

“You know he’s an ass on purpose, right?”

“Of course I’m an ass,” Castiel said as he squeezed between Dean and Alfie. “You wouldn’t fuck me if I was anything else.” He turned to the younger boy with a smile and pointed to the table they had just vacated. “You’re going to get all that, right?” he asked before chuckling and walking away.

Alfie glared after him and let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Listen, if you won’t kill him-”

“Give it a rest,” Dean said. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Without  _ him _ next time.”

“You have a deal,” Dean laughed before pulling money out of his pocket and gently tucking it into the front of Alfie’s pants prompting the boy’s eyes to widen. Dean smiled and stepped closer to him before lowering his forehead onto his. “You know, now that I know you like me and all that, I’m gonna have fun teasing you.”

“You’re as much an ass as him,” Alfie bit back but lifted his face towards Dean anyway.

“I know.”

“Make it up to me?” he asked and pulled Dean closer.

“Hm,” he sighed and leaned in, tilting Alfie’s face up more. “Maybe later,” he said and pulled away altogether before starting back to his apartment.

“I hate you!” Alfie called after him and Dean couldn’t do much more than laugh.

When he finally caught up with Castiel, it was at the top of the stairs and the previously mentioned man was leaning against the apartment door. 

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble if you don’t learn how to cover up your face.”

“What is anyone going to try to do?” he asked and turned to face Dean. “Fight me?”

“Call the FBI,” Dean offered and Castiel rolled his eyes. “I mean it, Cas! I have something good here and I don’t need you screwing it up because you’re too proud to hide yourself.”

“I got it. Are you done with the lecture? Open the goddamn door, Dean.”

“Promise me you’ll start being more careful,” he sighed and Castiel groaned loudly. “Cas-”

“Would you stop giving so much of a shit about me?! It’s starting to piss me off!”

“This is more about me keeping a roof over my head than worrying about you!” Dean convincingly lied. “Maybe if you stopped thinking the world revolved around you for just one fucking day you’d see-” Dean cut himself off as his eyes connected with the woman’s who lived just down the hall. 

There was no doubt their argument prompted her to come out and see if everything was okay and Dean, being so worried about what Castiel was doing, wasn’t paying enough attention. He didn’t hear her door open or know how long she had been standing there. He didn’t know how much she heard. 

“What?” Castiel snarled and started to look over his shoulder but Dean quickly pulled him forward and started unlocking the apartment door.

“That woman down the hall saw my face,” he whispered harshly and pushed the door open.

“Well, whaddaya know!”

“Shut up and get inside before she recognizes you,” he hissed and pushed Castiel forward before rushing in after him and slamming the door shut. “Fuck!” he screamed and pushed his hands through his hair before going about the apartment, trying to get things together. 

“You know there’s an easy way to fix this.”

“Woman shows up dead anywhere and the police are going to question the people who lived near her. That’s you and me and we just can’t risk that right now. God _ dammit!  _ This never would’ve happened if you weren’t so fucking arrogant!”

“Yeah, let’s put all of this on me. Good call, Dean. Let’s blame Castiel and pack up our things and run away together and-” Castiel was cut off by three sharp knocks on the door.

Dean ceased his rummaging and looked over, panic strung all across his face.

“Hey, listen, I know it’s…. Can we just talk?” she asked through the door.

“Get in the closet,” he whispered and gestured towards the doors. “She doesn’t know you’re you, get in the closet.”

Castiel, for once, obeyed without question and Dean rubbed his hands down his face before making his way to the door, picking up a knife along the way. He roughly pulled it open and grabbed the woman’s arm before pulling her inside. 

“You got a lot of nerve,” he growled as he slammed the door shut and shoved her up against it. He positioned the knife under her neck and pressed in close to her.

“I-I know,” she said. “I know and I-I’m so sorry but-”

“But nothing!”

“Please!” she begged and wrapped her hands around the arm holding the blade. “I-I just wanted to tell you that I don’t care.”

“What do you mean you don’t care?”

“I mean about anything you’ve done! Or will eventually do. I meant what I said when I came over some time ago. I  _ want  _ you. And now that I know what your face looks like, that only makes me want you more.”

Dean opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t exactly  _ think  _ of a response so he quickly closed it again and furrowed his eyebrows together. He couldn’t believe his luck. Twice now the person he thought was going to be the end of him actually wanted to fuck him. Did he have a fanbase out there? Did certain people really not care about what he did so long as he looked good doing it? That was fucking amazing!

He pulled away from the woman and twisted the knife in his hands so that it was pointing downwards. 

“You serious?”

She bit her lip in response and nodded. 

“Well, shit,” he laughed and turned away from her. He walked over to his bed and sat down, still trying to get a grasp of it all. “I’m flattered.”

“You should be. I don’t just pick up any guy I want,” she said and walked over to him.

Dean could probably debate that statement though because he had  _ seen  _ some of the guys she brought back and they weren’t all exactly the  _ creme de la creme. _

“That so?” he asked as she moved to straddle him and run her hands down his chest. 

“Uh huh,” she grinned and pushed his jacket off his shoulders.

“What’s your name, darlin?” he asked as her hands made their way under his shirt.

“Not important,” she replied. 

“You know mine.”

“Yeah, and I’m hoping I’ll be the one screaming a name and not the other way around, you get me?”

Dean grinned up at her and nodded just as her lips came down on his. They were soft and full and just the slightest bit wet from her tongue flicking over them only a second before. Her hands - also wonderfully soft - continued up under Dean’s shirt before she pulled them out and removed the article of clothing altogether. Her hips moved forward against his and her hands dropped to the button of his jeans, undoing it slowly before tugging on his zipper. Her tongue had just made its way into his mouth before there was a thud from the inside of his closet.

She pulled away and looked to the right as Dean held his breath.

“There was someone else with you.”

“Uh….”

“Looks like your friend is a peeping Tom,” she teased and got off of him. “Come get me when you’ve gotten rid of him.”

“But- Wait!” Dean whined and stood up. “He won’t- He’ll stay in there! He’ll just watch!”

She smiled and turned back to him, her brown eyes soft as they looked into his. “Listen, Dean, I’m into a lot of things, but third party viewers isn’t one of them,” she laughed. “Get me when he’s gone,” she smiled. “I promise I’ll still be around.” She winked at him before opening the door and walking out through it.

Dean stared at it for a moment before the sound of the closet opening snagged his attention and he stormed back over to Castiel’s hiding spot.

“Are you kidding me?!” he screamed and Castiel looked up from dusting himself off before cocking his head to the side.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You couldn’t be quiet for, like,  _ twenty  _ minutes?!”

“Oh, Dean, you wouldn’t have needed twenty minutes. Maybe five.”

“ _ Excuse _ me?”

“You’re excused,” Castiel taunted and shrugged out of his jacket before tossing it over onto a chair.

“What were you even doing in there?”

“Trying to get into a good position to touch myself,” he jeered and flopped down onto the bed, his arms moving behind his head.

“You’re-  _ JESUS!  _ You’re such a-”

“Pain? Asshole? Prick? Douche? Piece of shit? Which one will it be today?”

“You couldn’t let me have one chick?”

“What was I supposed to do?!” he screamed. “Stand in there and watch?!”

“If that was your preference!”

Castiel shot out the bed and started towards the door. “If you want her so badly I’ll go get her! And I’ll make sure she gives you everything you want!”

Dean jumped forward and slammed the door shut just as Castiel got it open. “Are you crazy?!” he screamed. “We were lucky she was okay with me! Two psychotic murderers on her floor might set her off!”

“You’re throwing so many mixed signals my way, Dean!” Castiel pouted mockingly. “I just don’t know what to do!”

“The hell’s your problem, man?” Dean growled and shoved Castiel, his back hitting the door. 

“My problem is you!” Castiel exclaimed and shoved him back. “And letting people run their goddamn hands all over you!”

“Who gives a fuck?”

“I do!” he barked and shoved Dean again. “Alright? I-” he bit his bottom lip and looked away from Dean. “I  _ care _ ,” he confessed and crossed his arms. 

Dean studied Castiel carefully, aware of how the other man’s eyes didn’t raise to meet his. So he had been wrong. All this time they lived together, Dean had been wrong. Castiel  _ could  _ feel and experience an emotional side. He just didn’t want anyone to see that side.

He took a careful step forward and then another before resting a hand on Castiel’s waist and another on his cheek. He pressed into him once he lowered his arms from across his chest and gently pressed his lips to his. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered as Castiel’s hands moved to his waist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“I figured what with you being sentimental and all,” Castiel started and Dean rolled his eyes, “that’d you’d just pick up on it or something.”

“Like a sixth sense?” Dean teased and raised his eyebrows.

“Something like that,” Castiel whispered back before his lips were against Dean’s once again.

Dean slept with his arm around Castiel that night, content with the feeling of Castiel’s being wrapped right back around him.


	8. Chapter 8

He literally could’ve gone with  _ any  _ other type of wake up. It could have been a bomb, a plague, a rabid dog tearing at his leg. It most  _ certainly  _ could’ve been a blowjob from Castiel but instead Dean Winchester woke up to absolutely the worst thing this planet could’ve provided him.

The S.W.A.T. team.

Guns all raised and pointed at him. His ass buck naked beneath the  _ very thin _ sheets.

And on top of that? His bed was empty save for him. Of  _ everything _ (and everyone). No hidden guns, grenades, knives, nothing. All of it was gone. Everything was gone.

He was naked in many more ways than the one.

“Hands up!” one of the men yelled at him now and Dean groaned before rolling over and pulling a pillow over his head. “NOW!”

“Come on, guys! You know just as well as I do that a man needs his beauty rest,” he mumbled and let his hand fall to the back of the mattress, running along the edge in hope that he had missed the gun the first time. Upon realizing he had no such luck, Dean sighed and arched his back with a loud groan and then sighed before rolling onto his back and smiling at the team. “You all look great.”

“Sit up, hands above your head!” one of them demanded and Dean finally complied. “Get out of the bed and on your knees.”

“Ooo!” he grinned. “I like the way you think, sir. But first,” he said and pointed to the floor, “someone be a doll and hand me my boxers? I’m a little shy.”

Their leader gestured to another man and he hastily picked up Dean’s clothing and tossed it over. Dean smiled his thanks before slipping them on and getting out the bed. He stretched upwards and then bent over halfway to stretch downwards.

“On your knees.  _ Now.” _

“Sorry! Some morning routines are just hard to break,” he said before facing the team and slowly getting onto his knees. “So,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows, “which one of you am I sucking off first?”

 

••

 

“Whoa, whoa take it easy, will you?” Dean grumbled as a man shoved him down into a cold, metal chair and cuffed his hands to the table in front of him. “You’re gonna get me all excited,” he disclosed and let out a breathy pant.

“Save it, Dean,” a familiar voice rang and he looked up to meet the familiar brown eyes of the woman who - apparently, no longer - lived down the hall. “Special Agent Cassie Robinson,” she said and produced a badge to go along with the name.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he sighed in disbelief. “How long have you known?”

“I’ve suspected for over a year now, which is when I moved in. But I’ve only  _ known  _ for a few hours,” she sighed. “Courtesy of you and your friend. Who, by the way, is missing.”

“You’re telling me,” he mumbled and looked down at his hands. “So….” He sighed and looked up at her. “All those guys you brought home….”

“Agents playing their parts.”

“Hm. And everything you said to me?”

“Agent playing a part,” she admitted and held her arms out. “I had to get you to trust me somehow or you would’ve ran.”

“Good call,” he commended, still studying his hands. 

“I thought so.”

“Speaking of calls, aren’t I supposed to get one of those?”

“Dean,” she laughed, “who would you possibly call?”

He raised his eyes towards the ceiling, his lips poked out slightly before deciding, “Domino’s.”

“You’re something else,” she sighed. “I’m gonna need you to sit tight for now, we’re working on a few things for you.”

“How sweet! I get a gift?”

“You get a court date,” she said while pulling out her phone. “Get comfy,” she mumbled while looking at her screen before leaving the room. 

Dean let out a long sigh before running his hands over his face and leaning back in his chair. He was still trying to process how he ended up in an interrogation room, his hands cuffed to a table and completely out of options. He made sure to keep his breathing regulated - he knew what he was like when it got out of hand - and to try to think of a plan. Clearly, there was nothing he could do from his current position, but maybe when they took him out again he could make a break for it.

‘And go where?’ he thought. ‘You don’t know the layout of this place.’

“I have to do something,” he whispered. “You have to do  _ something,  _ Dean. You have to do something!” His leg started bouncing involuntarily, completely unnoticed by Dean himself, and he shut his eyes, hoping to calm whatever nerves were creeping up inside of him. He couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t go to court, they’d kill him. He had to get out. 

The sound of the door opening, prompted Dean’s eyes to fly open and he recognized Cassie easily but the man standing next to her was new.

He was dressed in a dark, black suit, a red handkerchief poking out of the chest pocket. His hair was thin, but not thin enough for anyone to really call it balding and his face seemed to be mostly occupied by a well groomed, black and gray beard. His aura was oozing sophistication and arrogance and his dark, beady eyes were tracing Dean up and down. 

“Dean,” Cassie stated, “I want to introduce you to your lawyer, Mr. Crowley.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” the man greeted and  _ ugh  _ of course he had to have an accent.

“Could’ve done without meeting you,” Dean replied and Crowley’s face turned up into a very forced smile.

“Charming.”

“I’ll let you two talk,” Cassie said before leaving the room.

Dean let his eyes examine Crowley from head to toe and back again before the man finally stepped forward and gently placed a briefcase onto the table.

“I assume you probably want these.” His voice carried over Dean as he pulled a pair of jeans from the case and set them down on the table.

“Wow,” Dean said and pulled the pants closer before checking the tag. “Right size and everything.”

“Yes, well,” Crowley started and pulled out a shirt as well, “they are from your apartment so I hope so.”

Dean got the pants on easily enough, what with the handcuffs being in the way and all, but looked at the shirt with disdain. 

“How am I supposed to get that on?” he asked and gestured to the shirt before raising his cuffs.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Crowley said in a bored tone before sitting down.

He didn’t.

“So, I’m sure you’re wondering how this is all going to play out,” Crowley began. “First things first, you have a court date set for next week.”

“Next week?” Dean questioned. “Doesn’t it usually take a little longer than that? Ain’t I supposed to have my time in the can and all?”

Crowley stared at Dean as if he had made noises at him rather than spoken words. “Right. Well, I can assure you you’ll still have some time in ‘the can’ but your court date has been made top priority. We have reason to believe you have an accomplice that is more than capable of breaking you out and want to get this done and over with a-sap.”

“Aw, y’all care about me so much.”

“Immensely,” he tattled. “Now, I have some instructions for you and then I’ll be on my way: One, you will behave to the best of your ability while you spend time behind bars before your trial.”

Not likely.

“Two, you will dress in whatever is provided for you for your trial.”

Please not a suit.

“Three,” Crowley began, “you  _ will  _ plead guilty when the time comes. There’s no point in wasting either of our time. They have the evidence and all the reason necessary to lock you up.  _ Don’t _ be daft about this.”

Dean lifted his eyes to Crowley’s and felt the right side of his mouth raise into half a smile. 

Crowley studied him for a moment before his eyes narrowed down into a glare. 

Dean couldn’t help but smile wider.

“You got yourself a deal.”

 

••

 

Dean was put into a cell by himself. It was agreed upon by the head of the prison that he was too much of a threat to anyone else and should be handled with a certain caution. He had a guard with him at all times and spent most of his days doing small workouts in his cell. A few men had stopped by to introduce themselves and get a look at the man most of them revered. Dean liked those guys a lot, to the point where whenever he was with them his handler let his guard down, knowing Dean wouldn’t do anything to hurt them.

During the nights though, when no one was around to distract him and he was left alone in his cell, Dean thought of Castiel. He wondered where he could be, what he was doing, why he had left him, and if he was okay. He couldn’t get his image out of his head or let go of the feeling of the one night he got to spend wrapped in his arm. Dean missed him. Wanted him here now more than anything and went to sleep every night with the hope that Castiel would be there to break him out. He wanted to go back to his apartment. He wanted to sleep in his bed. He wanted to see Castiel.

“Last day, huh?” one of Dean’s friends, Benny, asked. “Tomorrow’s the big trial.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed as he shoveled a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

“Oh, man they should just give you your last meal now,” Gordon snickered and Adam shoved him roughly.

“How are you going to plead?” the same boy asked.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to say,” he acknowledged. “But I’ve been told to be honest.”

“You gotta be! They put your hand on the Bible and make you swear!” Garth declared.

Dean snorted at him as the rest of the men jeered and booed in his direction.

Garth was an interesting case. He had got himself caught in the drug dealing game but only as a middle man. His brother was in a mess of pain after an accident and had been buying marijuana to help him get through his days. He sent Garth out to collect the stuff without telling him what it was. Of course, Garth was made more than aware when his ass got caught and he landed himself in jail. He was the prime example of why Dean stuck to working for number one (unless number two had dark unruly hair and blue eye as cold as ice).

“I don’t regret  _ nuthin!”  _ came a shout from a few tables down, snapping Dean out of his reverie. 

“Yous a sick fuck.”

“And you’re just too pissed off you didn’t try it! Hell, you wanted to be a big man and sell illegal shit! How long you in here for? Twenty plus years? HA! I got six months, bub!”

“Yeah, and it’s your fifth time getting six months!”

“I’m living the dream!”

The men at Dean’s table rolled their eyes and turned away from the man standing up, proudly proclaiming his short terms.

“What’s he going on about?” Dean asked.

Adam waved his hand in a dismissive sort of way, his shoulders held up high as he rested his arms on the table. “Some sick shit, man. Dude comes in for six months for raping some girl, gets out, then does it all over again.”

“Yeah, and the court doesn’t do shit about it,” Gordon growled. “Like, fuck. Fitzgerald’s in here for five years for getting caught in the middle of some shit he didn’t even know about and that asswipe gets to parade around with his dick hanging out and no one does shit to stop ‘im.”

“America’s justice system is all fucked,” Benny sighed. “What did you expect?”

Dean looked around the table at the glum faces of his friends and frowned. “No one’s ever done anything?”

“Few guys have. But he always goes out and comes back for the same reason. Always the same kind of girl, too. He’s like a serial rapist. Real fucked in the head, brother.”

“Same kind of girl?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Gordon mumbled. “He likes-”

“Tall, curvy, beautiful,” the man yelled from his table again, “and blonde!”

Dean’s eyes snapped up.


	9. Chapter 9

Crowley sighed when he saw the state Dean was in and closed his eyes for a moment to try and collect himself.

“I thought we had a deal?” he grumbled and Dean shrugged at him.

“Look, I’m wearing your goddamn suit!”

“I’m not talking about the suit, Dean, I’m  _ talking  _ about the  _ BLOODY SHINER UNDER YOUR LEFT EYE!”  _ he roared and Dean chuckled at the sight of his red face.

“Oh, sorry,” he said through a grin. “I got into a fight. You should see the other guy though,” he stated proudly. “Seriously, you should!” he said in response to Crowley’s unamused expression. “More specifically, you should see the other guy’s penis, I mean I….” He made a stabbing motion with his hand and accompanied it with sound effects. “I destroyed it.”

“This is hopeless! This is completely hopeless, I don’t know why I signed onto this case when it so  _ obviously  _ is going to destroy my career!”

“Well,” Dean smiled, “at least everyone will know your name!”

Crowley rolled his eyes and faced forward. “When we go out there, it’s going to be a madhouse. Cameras, reporters, journalists, the whole nine. Ignore them. Keep your eyes forward and follow me, understood?”

“Crystal clear.”

He wasn’t wrong about the courtroom. It was filled to the brim with people; important and unimportant alike. It was filled to the point that people were shoulder to shoulder in their benches and packed into the aisles. When Dean made an appearance, the room went into an uproar of screaming, crying, and slander. Many loudly professed what they wanted to do to him and for once in Dean’s life, it wasn’t sexual. 

He still kind of liked it.

He made his way behind the bar and over to the Defendant's side before taking a seat, Crowley falling into the one beside him.

“Right, now what are you going to do today?” Crowley asked

“My very best!” Dean articulated.

Crowley leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

Dean took the opportunity to turn around in his chair and look over the crowd.

“Rowdy bunch…. How many people do you think are fans of mine.”

_ “None,”  _ Crowley droned.

“Huh,” Dean sighed and turned back around. “Where’s the judge?”

“On his way I’m sure.”

“Kind of rude for him to show up late.”

“We’re early.”

“Kind of rude for us to show up early.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Not when I’m excited.”

Crowley groaned and Dean grinned proudly at him just as a body stepped behind the bar and over to the Prosecutor’s table. 

“Sorry I’m a little late,” the person said and Dean’s body stiffened. “The traffic out there is a mess, I couldn’t find a single place to park-”

“You should’ve taken a cab,” Dean interjected and raised his eyes up to the one man he would always see as a boy. “Hiya, Sammy,” he smiled. “This is a treat.”

The man Sam was talking to gave him a sympathetic look and Dean saw him form the words. “If this is too much….” before Sam shook his head and turned around to face his brother.

“Dean.”

“Oh, man,” Dean laughed and sat back in his chair. “I can’t believe this,” he whispered. “Seriously?” he asked. “I mean,  _ seriously?”  _ He sat forward again and tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Didn’t you know what you were signing up for?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“And you chose to work against me rather than for me?”

“Of course I did,” Sam bit back and  _ ouch _ . Dean wasn’t going to pretend that one didn’t hurt.

“Wow. Big Lawyer Sam uses the education his brother gave him to bring him down.”

“You did  _ not  _ give me my-”

“OH! Right,” Dean chuckled. “The anonymous donor  _ was  _ just that after all.”

Sam’s eye widened at the realization and his lips slowly parted in shock as Dean bit his own, mostly trying to keep it from trembling.

“So what now, Sam? I know you wanted me to hand myself over to Castiel all those months ago - great advice by the way - but do you have what it takes to kill me yourself?” 

Crowley sat up then and looked over at Dean with a warning glare that clearly indicated that he needed to stop. 

“You got enough guts, Sammy?” he croaked, his voice breaking on Sam’s name. “You gonna put me in the chair, Sam?!” he screamed and was too occupied with his brother to notice part of the courtroom going silent. “Huh?! YOU GONNA  _ KILL ME,  _ SAM?!” his voice thundered as he shot out of his chair. Crowley stood up with him and placed his hands on Dean’s chest. But Dean wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to charge his brother. He knew it as well as Sam, who hadn’t flinched, did. Dean let out a grim laugh before looking down and shaking his head. His body relaxed as he fell back into his seat and raised his hands to his forehead. 

They were heavy with the weight of the cuffs.

Dean raised his head and looked up towards the ceiling. Slowly a smile formed on his face and he started shaking violently in his chair, his teeth clenched together as he emitted unimpressive buzzing noises through them.

Crowley moved his hands to the side of his mouth, blocking it from the view of Sam and his partner. “I am going to cut out your  _ spleen  _ and feed it to my dogs when this is over.”

Dean laughed wickedly, saliva bubbling in the corners of his mouth as he let his head fall to the side, his body going slack as red-rimmed eyes latched onto Sam’s. He kept them focused there, unblinking until the younger of the two turned away completely fine in the eyes of every viewer but his older brother.

Dean sat up in his chair before letting his forehead rest on the table. His eyes fell onto the handcuffs.

_ “Dean, how long are you gonna live for?” _

_ “Forever!” _

_ “Well, how long am  _ I  _ going to live for?!” _

Dean closed his eyes, fighting back the tears that were so desperately trying to escape.

“Longer than me, of course.”

 

••

 

The room was in complete chaos at the moment, everyone was screaming and shouting and trying to charge the bar. The Judge (Judge Singer) was repeatedly banging his gavel and yelling “Order! Order!” as the police did their best to corral the crowd and get them to settle.

Dean Winchester was standing at the podium looking completely casual as the room took its time to settle down from the mess he had caused. He sighed as he leaned against the podium and looked up at the crest sitting behind the judge.

“Mr. Winchester,” Judge Singer said, now that the screaming had turned into dull murmurs, “please take a seat.”

“Yes, sir, Your Honor, sir!” He spun on his heel and happily made his way back over to the fuming, red faced, I’m-going-to-murder-you-slowly eyed Crowley. He smiled at his lawyer before falling into the seat next to him. “Nailed it, right?”

“Your Honor?” Sam asked and stood up. “I’d like to request a recess.”

“Granted. I think we can all do with that.”

Dean was pulled out of his seat and pushed through the doors to a holding cell.  

“Not guilty?” Crowley’s voice rang as he made his way over to the small cell.  _ “Not GUILTY?!  _ Are you incapable of doing  _ anything anyone  _ says correctly?! Do you have an aneurysm?!”

“No!” Dean gasped happily. “But I’ve been told I’m good at giving them.”

“OH!” Crowley groaned and turned away from the criminal.

Dean laughed and leaned against the bars while Crowley paced the floor in front of him. 

“What in the hell am I going to do?”

“Defend me I hope,” Dean offered. “They got a lot of evidence against me.”

“OF COURSE THEY HAVE A LOT OF BLOODY-” Crowley quickly composed himself, placing a hand against his mouth and drawing in a deep breath. “You talked to  _ security cameras.” _

“That I did,” Dean said with a grin. “It was my signature sign off. You know, ‘Tune in next week!’ kinda deal.”

“I’m well aware,” he mumbled before sighing and leaning against a wall, his eyes closing.

Dean kept his eyes on him and watched him mutter lowly to himself about only God knew what. 

“I’m as good as dead, aren’t I?” he whispered and Crowley’s eyes opened into a half lidded position.

“No,” he said. “You’re with Crowley. And Crowley never loses.”

“Hm,” Dean said with a nod and small smile. He then frowned and took on a look of uncertainty. “I hope you don’t defend me in third person.”

Dean jumped away from the bars as Crowley charged forward.

 

••

 

The crowd reacted similarly to the first time Dean walked out and he grinned proudly at them, meeting the eyes of many and winking at those who cursed at him. He had just looked away from a woman who was sobbing gibberish at him when he came to a halt and caused the guard behind him to run into him. 

“What are you doing?” Crowley asked as he turned around. “Let’s move.”

Dean didn’t acknowledge him but instead kept his eyes locked on his dad’s. 

Every part of him wanted to go over to him and wrap his arms around him. Every second he spent with the distance between them was tearing at his heart in a way he thought he’d never experience. 

John offered Dean a small smile and nod and his eyes communicated the message, “It’s okay. I’m here.” 

“Dad?” he whispered and stepped towards him. He was shoved back into line by a guard and he quickly turned around and shoved him back. He ducked the punch the man threw next and raised his cuffed fists across his face. He didn’t know how many arms were on him then but he swore to break every one of them. He was practically carried across the bar and pushed into a seat before his hands were cuffed to the table as someone worked to cuff his feet to the ground. That didn’t stop him from fighting however. He snapped his head forward against a guard’s nose and jabbed an elbow into the head of the one by his leg. He was well aware of the crowd’s screams and thrived off of them. He was able to kick away the man by his feet and shot out of his chair, pulling roughly at the chain linked to the table. 

He turned around to the best of his ability, still tugging on the chain, and found his dad in the audience once again.

He called out to him, panic lacing his voice. He screamed and hollered for him as he was shoved back into his seat and held down until his feet were attached to the ground. 

“What is the matter with you?!” Crowley hissed as Dean struggled against his constraints. He screamed when his efforts to break away continued to be fruitless and slipped out of the chair and onto his knees, his head hanging between his arms. “Get. Up,” Crowley snapped. “Now.”

“I want my dad.”

“Are you kidding me with this?!”

“I will murder this entire courtroom if I don’t get my dad!” Dean screamed and slammed his fists down on the table. “I will fucking murder  _ EVERYONE!”  _

“There’s no way for you to-”

“TRY ME, CROWLEY!” he roared, his head raised as he jumped at the lawyer. 

“Get his father,” he mumbled to a guard.

“That’s against protocol-”

“So is everyone in this room being murdered! Take your pick!”

The guard sighed and left and Dean rested his head on his arm, trying to control his breathing.

He heard his footsteps before he saw him and soon enough, John was kneeling by his side and moving a hand to his back as another gently lifted his head up and rested it against his forehead.

Dean looked up into his eyes and swallowed thickly before his lip started to tremble and his eyes finally released their tears.

“I don’t want to die,” he whispered. “Dad, I don’t want to die. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did all this, I’m sorry I hurt so many people, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

“Shh,” John said softly and rubbed his hand up and down on Dean’s back. “Deep breaths, okay? This gentleman right here,” he said and gestured to Crowley, “is going to do his absolute best to defend you, okay? Dean, the worst that could happen is jail, okay?”

“No,” he cried. “The worst that could happen is they kill me.”

“They’re not going to kill you.”

“I want to go home.”

John shook his head and Dean let out a harsh sob. “You can’t do that right now.”

“I  _ want  _ to!”

“Dean,” John said and pulled away before lifting Dean’s face, “breathe.”

Dean took an unsteady breath in and slowly pushed it out.

“That’s enough,” a guard announced and grabbed John’s arm.

Dean’s eyes snapped up towards him and he made to move out of his kneeling position but John placed a steady hand on his shoulder and pulled him close. “I love you, you understand? No matter what, I love you.” He kissed the side of his head and stood up before walking away with the guard.

“Dean?” Crowley asked and placed an unsure hand on his back.

“I wasn’t finished,” he said but got back into his seat nonetheless. “It’s okay, I know his face.”

“Jesus Christ,” Crowley mumbled as Dean wiped at his face. His composure was reset almost immediately and he raised his chin as he met the eyes of the Judge.

“Oh, I hope you’re not waiting on me. By all means, please go on. I’m eager to see how this ends.”


	10. Chapter 10

“That’s not me,” Dean said and gestured to the tape Sam had just played for the courtroom to see.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s not me,” Dean repeated, drawing out each word. “I don’t know who that is.”

“Dean!” Sam complained, his tone borderlining on a whine. “I-” he cleared his throat and clenched his jaw before shaking his head. “Mr. Winchester,” he proceeded and Dean smiled, “how can you deny such an obvious-”

“By doing what I just did.”

Sam stepped towards him, his fists clenched and Dean stood up.

“Objection, Your Honor. I feel threatened.”

“Mr. Winchester, sit down.”

Dean grinned and nodded towards his brother. “Sit down, Sammy.”

“I ain’t- I’m  _ not  _ talking to  _ him,  _ idjit. I’m talking to you!”

“Objection, name calling.”

“Sit down,” Judge Singer hissed and Dean obeyed before looking back to Sam.

“Permission to proceed?” Sam asked and the judge nodded while Dean crossed his arms. “Thank you. Now, Mr. Winchester, you deny this being you but the man in the video announced his name, first and last. Coincidentally, it’s the same as your name,” Sam stated in a tone that clearly conveyed that it wasn’t a coincidence at all. He continued on, talking to both Dean and the jury. Dean, of course, tuned most of what he said out and let his mind wander to other things. 

He was in the middle of thinking about the last time he had taken his car for a drive when he was met with the unmistakable clinking of metal on the ground. 

He frowned and looked up to see the source of the noise just as there was an explosion from the middle of the courtroom. 

People screamed as they were blown back but Dean could tell it wasn’t big enough to do any fatal damage. Smoke filled the room after a second explosion and he saw the police as well as his personal guards pull out their handguns. They were taken out in the blink of an eye and Dean’s eyebrows shot up as a man made his way out of the smoke, his trench coat seeming to flow behind him as he reloaded his gun.

“Alright,” he sighed and rested the gun on his shoulder. “Where’s my bitch?”

Dean snorted and Castiel’s eyes moved over to him and Dean grinned at the sight of them lighting up. He started over to him and Dean’s smiled only widened as he shot the bailiff without a moment’s hesitation. He reached out and pulled Dean forward before slamming his mouth against his and shoving his tongue inside. Dean leaned into the kiss just as Castiel pulled away and pushed him away enough to shoot at the chains holding him to the stand. 

“Get off your ass,” he said and nodded his head towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Dean grinned, only now realizing the chaos of the room, and took the gun Castiel handed him.

“What in the hell do you-” 

Castiel turned to his left and shot the judge in the head before he started walking away, Dean right by his side.

It was lucky that years of no interaction didn’t hinder how well Dean knew his brother just as it was lucky that Dean easily picked up on Castiel’s methods because Sam would most likely be dead now if Dean had slacked off.

Dean already had a hand moving towards Castiel’s arm as he heard Sam shuffle out from his hiding spot and shout Dean’s name.

Castiel’s bullet ended up in the ceiling rather than Sam’s head.

“Don’t,” he snapped at the blue eyed man and pushed him forward. Castiel scoffed and rolled his eyes but continued forward anyway as Dean turned back to his brother.

“You-You can’t- Look what you did!” he screamed and gestured to the still screaming courtroom. “You’re-”

“Don’t,” Dean said once again. “Listen, I’m not going to die. I just….” He shrugged and sighed softly. His eyes traced over the courtroom until he found his father, perfectly in tact (thank God), but coughing violently against the smoke as he tried to help others. “Make sure Dad’s alright at the end of all this,” he mumbled. 

“Dean,” Sam cried and shook his head at his brother.

“I know,” Dean said. “I hate me, too.” He sighed and looked away from his brother and towards the table he had been sitting at not too long ago. “Hey, Crowley!” he called and the older man peeked his head out from under it and met Dean’s eyes. “You’re fired, I found a bail out option.” 

Crowley glared at him and Dean winked before walking over to Castiel who was leaning casually against the courtroom doors.

“All done with the goodbyes?” he asked and Dean nodded. “Wonderful,” he said as he pressed himself against the crash bar on the left as Dean did the same to the one on the right. 

The duo walked out, guns raised, eyes bright, and blood rushing.

The sound of screaming civilians only seemed to heighten their enthusiasm.

 

••

 

Dean stood by the end of a grave, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his jaw clenched as he did all he could to keep himself composed. He eyes drifted across the name for what felt like the millionth time before he let out a long sigh and lowered them.

“Why are we here?” Castiel asked as he leaned against the Impala. “We have to get moving, Dean, we have a small window to make things happen.” It had been two days since Castiel had broken Dean out of the courtroom and to be completely honest, the majority of both of them had been spent between motel sheets. Castiel wouldn’t let Dean out of his grip after they had broken out and Dean wasn’t abject to it. Turns out Castiel was an even better lay after traumatizing events that involved nearly losing someone you cared about.

“I have to get the money,” Dean sighed and turned away from the grave before walking to another one and slowly getting on his knees before pressing his hands against the grass. “Get the trunk open,” he said as he moved his fingers between a layer of dirt and started lifting the sediment.

Castiel came to stand by his side and laughed heartily as Dean pulled off the facade of grass and revealed an innumerable amount of duffle bags lying beneath.

“You completely defiled this person’s grave!” he proclaimed as Dean stood up and brushed off his hands on his jeans. “You were right! I  _ never  _ would have found this.”

“Maybe you’ll start listening to me,” he chuckled. “Alright,” he sighed, “let’s load ‘er up!”

It didn’t take long to move the money. Dean had just put the last bag in the back seat of his car when Castiel announced the grave was once again covered up and hidden. Dean was faintly aware of him walking back over and was confused as to why his footsteps stopped short. When he looked over his shoulder to inspect why, he saw Castiel staring at the same grave that had preoccupied Dean’s attention before.

Castiel looked over at him, and for the first time in his life Dean saw a sprinkling of sadness in his eyes.

“Your mother?”

Dean ignored the feeling that went along with that question and instead decided to be shocked at Castiel’s soft tone.

“Yeah,” he breathed and shut the back door to the Impala.

“How?”

Dean breathed in deeply before turning to face Castiel. “Cancer.”

“My condolences.”

Dean shook his head and shrugged lightly. “S’alright,” he mumbled.

“Did she know about you-”

“No,” Dean cut in. “No, but...but she’s the reason I started.”

“Her death?”

“Trying to prevent it,” he explained and Castiel’s head tilted to the side. Dean nodded towards the car as he opened the driver’s side door. “You said small window, right? Let’s go.”

Castiel walked around to the passenger’s side and slid in next to Dean.

“My mom’s alive,” he said and Dean shot him a glance before starting up the engine. “She hates my guts and has, on several occasions, told me I was fucked up, a waste of potential, and better off six feet under. Not that I really care for her opinion but, I think you should be grateful yours is dead. If not, you can have mine.”

Dean felt the need to punch Castiel but, upon seeing that he was completely serious, held back his fist and settled for rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Cas.”

“Of course.”

 

••

 

Dean had never seen the kid look so pissed and that included the time Dean first told Alfie about him and Castiel. This time was probably worse because the anger was more directed towards him than Castiel and  _ wow  _ did he feel the weight of it. It was like he was thousands of leagues under the ocean and the pressure was just enough to keep him between life and death.

“Where?” Alfie seethed as he stood on a dock with Dean as Castiel talked to the man who was providing them with a boat.

“I can’t exactly tell you-”

“The  _ hell  _ you can! After all the shit I’ve done for you! After everything you’ve put me through, all the years of me thinking you were going to murder me, yes you  _ can  _ tell me where you’re going!”

“I can’t,” Dean repeated. “It’s apart of the deal with this guy, no one can know.”

“You are the biggest- I can’t even think of an accurate word to describe you because you’re so many horrible things jammed up into one person and I-I can’t stand you! I don’t know why I ever….” He crossed his arms and looked away from Dean before shaking his head. “And of course,  _ he’s  _ going. Of course  _ he’ll  _ know where you are. You realize he left you right?! You realize that! I never left you,” he spat and slammed a hand against his chest. “Everything went wrong when he showed up!”

“Alfie,” Dean sighed, “you’ve really gotta get over this whole thing with Cas, okay? Nothing serious would’ve ever happened between you and me anyway. I’m no good for you.”

“And he’s no good for you.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t do that, asshole. I’m making good points.”

“You’re making repetitive points.”

“Points nonetheless.”

“I can’t stay here, man. I’m an even bigger criminal now than I was at the beginning of the week. They know where I live, Alfie! They’re going to be looking for me. Hell, they might even try to question you and if you know where I’m headed and they do some sick shit to get it out of you, I’ll-”

“Kill them?”

“Well, I would. But I’d be gone so I couldn’t.”

Alfie looked down at his feet and gently kicked at a rock lying on the wood. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know, it all really depends.”

“Can-Can you try to come back at some point? Even if it’s just for a day? I’ll meet you wherever you are-”

“You’re such a chick, man,” Dean laughed and Alfie let out an annoyed sigh. “But yeah, I’ll try to come back and,” he sighed, “and ‘meet you wherever you are.’”

Alfie stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around Dean, his head buried in his shoulder. Dean squeezed him back, one hand lifting to his head and the other securing itself tightly around his waist.

“Thank you for everything. I mean it, thank you so much.”

“The money made it worthwhile,” he teased and Dean chuckled. “Dean?” he mumbled, his head still in his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“I….” He stepped back and looked up into his eyes. “I love-”

“No,” Dean interrupted. “Don’t finish that sentence and don’t  _ feel  _ that for me, okay? Just don’t.”

“But I-”

“No,” Dean lashed out. 

Alfie’s shoulders fell in disappointment and Dean took a step away from him. “Hey,” he started, “you said…. The last time we almost kissed you said maybe later and this may be the only later we get so you had better kiss me and kiss me well.”

Dean raised his eyebrows and laughed. “Wow, so demanding. Promise me though that you won’t hold onto it or me.”

“I swear,” he nodded and reached out for Dean. “I promise,” he said while Dean moved closer and pulled his waist against his. “Cross my heart and all that crap,” he breathed just as Dean’s mouth came down on his. Dean was surprised at the control Alfie took on the kiss. He pried Dean’s lips open with his own and slid his tongue across his. He pressed himself closer to Dean and even rolled his hips against his. “Thanks,” he breathed against Dean’s mouth before he pulled away completely.

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

“I hope that’s over,” Castiel commented from behind the pair. 

“Yeah. I’m-I’m going to see how long it’ll take to ship Baby over,” Dean muttered and briskly walked away.

Castiel examined Alfie carefully and grinned when he saw the younger boy doing the same thing right back. He laughed lightly before holding out a hand. “Alfred,” he said as Alfie studied the hand and then carefully took it. “I won’t miss you at all and you’ve been nothing but a pain to me since the moment I met you. I wish you bad fortune.”

Alfie, while still gripping Castiel’s hand, nodded. “Likewise.”

Castiel grinned before pulling Alfie forward and crashing his lips against his. Alfie quickly pulled away, wiping furiously at his mouth.

“I just can’t have him being the last person you kissed. I’m very touchy about my things being,” he licked his lips before they slowly pulled into a smile, “touched.”

“Fuck you.”

“That position is already filled. Dasvidaniya, Alfred. Don’t keep in touch.”

 

••

 

Castiel rested his forehead against Dean’s as he pulled away from a long, languid kiss and dropped his mouth to Dean’s neck.

Dean’s back arched off the cotton sheets and his chest pressed against Castiel’s as he let out a low moan of pleasure.

“Cas,” he whispered and grabbed his arm. “Cas, wait, hold on.”

“What?” Castiel groaned out in frustration. “What?” he asked again to emphasize his annoyance.

“I-I need to talk to you.”

“Why?” Castiel whined. “More specifically, why now?”

“Because it’s been bugging me.”

“You couldn’t do this when we were on the beach?”

“No, because you were fucking me then, too,” Dean laughed.

“You kept quiet then! Why not now?”

Dean sighed and gently pushed Castiel away. “Can you just listen for a sec? With something other than your dick.”

“You usually like when my dick listens.”

“Castiel.”

“I apologize,” he said and fell onto his back. “What’s bothering you?”

Dean had been thinking about it since it happened. He thought about it in the interrogation room, in jail, in the courtroom, at the graveyard, on the boat, and even now in Greece, having sex in their bed looking out a floor to ceiling window that opened up onto the beach.

“Why did you leave me?” Dean asked and turned to face Castiel. “That day when they found me, you weren’t there. You took all my shit and left and I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like…. I feel like the only reason you came to get me was for the money and now that you have that too you’ll leave again.”

Castiel smiled and moved an arm behind his head. “You think I left because I wanted your shit?”

“Well,” Dean sighed. “Yeah.”

“And now you think I’m going to do it again.

“Uh-huh.”

“Hm,” Castiel sighed and looked away from Dean. “It does sound like me. But, it’s not why I did what I did and I promise you I have no intention of doing it again. Dean, I left because you let the FBI into your place and I had to get out of there.”

“You couldn’t have known-”

“She  _ reeked  _ ‘cop!’ Heavily. I couldn’t tell you that of course because you would’ve wanted to leave and she would’ve seen and we never would’ve been able to outrun them. She’d have us flagged. That’s why I dropped all that crap around in your closet. Two to one, she felt threatened and left. That night I got all your guns and grenades and shit, packed it up, and left. If the FBI had gotten that I’m not sure we would’ve been able to get it back.”

“Oh,” Dean said and Castiel frowned at him. 

“You sound displeased.”

“I…. It’s nothing.”

“We’ve made it this far, Dean,” Castiel sighed. “My erection is half gone.”

“It’s just, you said you got rid of her because you knew she was a cop.”

“Yes.”

“S-So, what you told me that night,” he mumbled, “about-about caring about me that was just you playing a part?”

Castiel let out a heavy sigh and Dean did all he could not to flinch at the sound. 

“No, Dean. That was the truth,” he corrected and looked over at him. “I didn’t want it to be, in fact I’m still not sure if I do but it’s the truth. I care about you, Dean Winchester,” he confessed. “And I swear it’s going to be the death of me.”

Dean grinned joyfully at Castiel and leaned forward to kiss him. 

“Is that a challenge?” he asked and felt Castiel’s lips form into a smile under his.

“You’d lose.”

“Hm, I don’t know. I kicked your ass pretty good the first time.”

“You cheated. I was supposed to be threatening and you didn’t take the bait.”

“Castiel,  _ clearly  _ the way to disarm me is to make sexual advances towards me! You don’t know me at all, do you?”

“That would be a dream.  _ A Life Not Knowing Dean Winchester!  _ I’m getting hard just thinking about it!”

Dean playfully shoved Castiel’s face away from him before rolling onto his back. “Can I ask you something else?”

“I’ve accepted I’m not getting laid tonight. Shoot.”

Dean laughed and softly let out a contented noise before asking, “Do you get bored? I mean, it’s been three months of no murder or robbing or anything and I just wanna know if you get bored.”

“I do. Do you?”

“I do.”

Castiel sat up and leaned over to kiss Dean before getting out of the bed. “Get dressed then.”

“Why?”

“There’s this lovely jewelry store a few miles north of here. Close enough to get to, far enough to not get questioned if we cover our faces. They have this lovely pair of silver rings I’ve been dying to get my hands on.” Castiel picked up a pair of jeans and raised his eyes to meet Dean’s with a smile. “Well? Are you coming or not?”

Dean laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I’m right behind you.”

The two got ready together and raided their drawers for something to cover their faces with before the headed for the door. Dean scooped up the keys to the Impala just as Castiel made his way out onto the front porch.

“Hey,” Dean called as he hurried after him, “you think the people here have ever heard of Batman?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you all really enjoyed reading it! I've never done something like this before so I'm pretty happy with how it turned out! Thank you all so much for reading and for supporting it! Much love xx!!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr!: livinglike-itssummer


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